PJ Murphy vs the Chuck Me Mondays Challenge
by P.J. Murphy
Summary: I'm going to try Verkisto's challenge to write about each episode of Chuck as we wait for the new season to begin. Hope you enjoy it, and please feel free to leave reviews. The final chapter is now posted. Thank you for reading. I hope you enjoyed it.
1. Chuck vs the Pilot

_Verkisto has thrown down the gauntlet to write about every episode of Chuck until the new season next March, and I thought I would give it a try. (won't be in script form, I promise. :-D ) Here is my first one, which covers something the show skipped over completely: what happened between the time Chuck walked away from the hotel and when Sarah found him on the beach the next morning. I hope you like it, and please leave plenty of comments, whether good or bad._

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**_CHUCK VS. THE PILOT – THE LONG NIGHT_**

Chuck makes his way down to the street, looking up at the roof of the building as he passes under it. He glances back and forth, not noticing the menacing man in the suit or the woman who was supposed to be just a blind date. He wasn't even sure how the hell to get home. The Nerd Herd car remained smashed two blocks away. He knew he should report it to the police, but the events of the night pushed that thought far back in his mind.

One does not consider it a healthy thing to walk the streets of Los Angeles at this late hour of the night. But he figured he did enough dancing with the devil tonight where getting knocked over by some petty criminal for the $15 and one nearly maxed-out credit card in his wallet would be almost laughable. He didn't go home like he told the two government agents he was doing. Ellie would almost certainly be waiting up for him, demanding details on his date. He didn't want to tell her anything, nor were his spirits up for her overexuberance that could be enjoyable one day and excruciating the next. He didn't want to tell her what happened tonight because he still didn't believe it himself.

What was happening in his mind was starting to drive him mad. He kept seeing things, knew things he never knew before, and he couldn't stop it. It brought two government agents to his doorstep, neither of whom would appear to think twice about killing him. Ironically, it also stopped him from jumping off the roof of that building. Suddenly realizing that General Stanfield was in danger kicked in some sort of instinct within Chuck. Perhaps it was to regain some control over what was happening to him. It could have been a response to piecing together what was going on in his mind with these images and knowledge he suddenly had. He had no idea it was as simple as doing something right because that's the type of person he really was. People trusted him and liked him. They thought the world of him. Unfortunately, the events of the last four years left Chuck unable to feel that way about himself.

Why did Bryce do it? Why betray his country like that? Certainly he knew Bryce was capable of horrible acts of cruelty, having been on the receiving end of it 4 years ago at Stanford. But never in his wildest dreams did he think Bryce would turn his back on the country like he did. To make matters worse, he involved Chuck in it. Why did he send Chuck that file? Was Bryce expecting him to keep it safe? That certainly wouldn't happen. Bryce had another thing coming if he thought he could trust Chuck to help him commit treason.

He corrected himself. Bryce is dead. There would be no chance to confront him ever again. He ruined Chuck's life 4 years ago and decided to do a sequel two nights ago. There is no way to know now why Bryce did that. He got the better of Chuck once again, and there would be no redemption for Chuck against him.

For the first time in what seemed like hours, Chuck looked at his surroundings. He was at Venice Beach. He had to chuckle to himself: he just acted out a Frank Drebin moment from "The Naked Gun." He walked for such a long time without knowing where he was, and nothing looked familiar when it finally entered his head. He walked along the sand for a short distance, and then he sat down near the water.

What was he thinking, anyway? He thought back to yesterday at the Buy More. Morgan, as good of a friend as he was, had a very unnerving way of getting Chuck out of his comfort zone. Chuck just wanted to work the Nerd Herd desk, fix computers or electronics that came in, and not be bothered otherwise. Of course, dealing with the motley crew of Nerd Herd employees didn't lend itself to that. He should have guessed things would have been a little crazy when "Vicky Vale," as Morgan put it, walked into the Buy More. He couldn't deny it, Sarah was incredibly gorgeous. She seemed very friendly as well; two things that almost never went hand-in-hand with women. He had to admit to showing off a little helping that desperate father record his daughter's ballet recital in the store to save the day. He didn't think he'd get a second chance with the stunning blonde, and the incident with the ninja robber at the apartment put any thought of seeing Sarah again out of his mind. The scary guy he saw earlier today at the Large Mart made matters that much worse.

"_I'm not sure if my phone is working or not because…I never got a call from you."_

Why Chuck didn't recognize that as just a line was beyond him. It really wasn't even that good of a pick-up line. It was the type of a line that would earn most men a drink in the face had they attempted it. But Morgan, being in full cheerleader mode, deflected Chuck from thinking too much about it. It's very difficult to turn down a date when your best friend accepts it for you. To be fair, the date, for the time it was one, went as well as any date Chuck ever had. She was fascinating, sweet, and she even laughed at his jokes. Out on the dance floor, she was amazing. Chuck never saw anybody so uninhibited yet still in control as she was while they were dancing. He had hoped she didn't see that goofy look on his face when he realized how amazing the night was. He was enjoying himself like he hadn't in a long, long time.

And then she pulled him out of the club.

From there, things flew by faster than he could keep up. The backwards drive in the Nerd Herd car, the menacing black SUV, and the collision. How she stopped the SUV from killing her by activating the emergency barrier with a knife was still fresh in his mind. He was freaking out. She pulled a gun on him, as did the tall agent in the black suit. Their mention of Bryce made things make even less sense, even though Bryce did email him that file. He thought there was no way out. He was running for the edge of that roof.

After that, everything started to catch up for him. He correctly guessed that the NSA had blueprints of the Westin Bonaventure and the CIA found blueprints for the schematics of a bomb. Unfortunately, by the time they got to the bomb, there was only 90 seconds to defuse it. Thankfully, the computer controlling the bomb was one the Buy More sold, so Chuck was able to crash it, courtesy of Irene Demova. Suddenly, he had just saved a few hundred people from being killed.

He sat there on the sand, reviewing the events of the night in his head, and it still didn't feel real to him. He was just any other guy, trying to make his way through this life. Ellie, Captain Awesome, and Morgan spent more than their fair share of time trying to convince him otherwise. They thought he was so much more, that he was so much better than what he thought he was. But he never felt it, sitting in that damn store day after day, barely getting by at $11 an hour.

Now it seems the life he didn't really want in the first place would be taken away as well. He got the feeling he hadn't seen the last of Sarah or the guy from the NSA…was his name Casey? He thought he heard that name at some point. What would those two do to him? Would they really take him away from his family and his friends? That's all he had in life. Losing them was something he could not handle.

He wasn't sure how long he had been sitting on that beach. He felt the sun come up over his left shoulder. This was one of his favorite things to look at. It's easy to appreciate a sunset over an ocean. The true beauty was watching the sun begin to light that same sky over the water. Certainly having the sun rise above the horizon, as if coming out of the water, must have made it even more thrilling, but he was in the wrong part of the country to witness that. But looking at the lightening blue shade of the sky over the water was the only thing that felt peaceful in the last 12 hours.

He can sense someone behind him. At first, he thought it might have been a cop wondering what he was doing out there. When he caught the silhouette of her long hair and shapely frame, he knew it was her. If it was any other guy, they would be thrilled to have such a beautiful woman have an interest in them. But Chuck didn't want anything to do with her. She sits down next to him on the sand.

"_How long have you been here?"_

"_All night."_

"_There's nowhere I can run, is there."_

She pauses for a second, perhaps to lessen the impact of the words, even chuckling a bit at what he said. "_Not from us."_

He had to give Sarah credit. She tried to see things from his perspective. She listened to him first, rather than try the fire-and-brimstone approach that Casey almost certainly would have tried with him had he been the one to locate Chuck. He wasn't sure what sort of deal she reached with Casey, but his warning of last night that they needed him seems to have gotten through. He would get to continue living his life, although there would now be a part of it he couldn't tell anyone. She said it was to keep them safe, and that certainly seemed logical. Whatever was in his head dealt with things in this world that were incredibly vital to the security of the country.

"_I need you to do one more thing for me."_

"_Yeah?"_

"_Trust me, Chuck."_

He turned to look at her. If he were a little more cynical, if he was another person, he might have thought she was asking way too much of him. What had she done to ask that of him? But there was something there. Something beyond the angelic blue eyes, the supermodel body, and the streetwise-but-friendly attitude. There was something that made Chuck believe her when she said she would protect him and keep him safe. As if nothing bad would happen to him as long as she was around. He couldn't put his finger on it, but he had the feeling she saw him as something more than a person with a cache of government secrets in his head.

He just had to not freak out.


	2. Chuck vs the Helicopter

_First of all, my apologies to CrystalElements. I wrote this piece without even thinking of reviewing everybody else's challenges to make sure we don't cover similar territory. Now that I saw hers (I'm assuming someone everybody calls Crystal isn't a guy, but I could be wrong), I realize we were covering similar territory. I do apologize for stepping on her toes a bit._

_I had covered this in "vs. the Alpha Version," but I always thought Sarah was way too harsh with Chuck when he got out of the helicopter. OK, he shouldn't be risking his life like he did, but Chuck didn't have much to go on regarding if Sarah had actually betrayed him, and obviously Casey was no help at all, even after it was over. This deals in some small part with that._

_And before anybody starts getting worried that my stories are too dark (I'm sure a lot of people think I could use a Prozac cocktail after how my long fanfic ended), the next two stories are of a much lighter nature, as is my next long-form fanfic, I promise. Assuming, of course, nobody covered the territory I have in mind for "vs. the Tango" and "vs. the Wookiee."_

_Enjoy, and please leave reviews. It's easy. It's that little green thingy at the bottom of the page._

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**_CHUCK VS. THE HELICOPTER – TWO APARTMENTS, ONE PROBLEM_**

Chuck bursts through the front door of the apartment, slamming it in the process. He walks right past a stunned Ellie and Awesome.

"Chuck, what's going..." Ellie watches him stride past, not seeing this side of her brother in some time. She still couldn't get over what he did at dinner earlier to Sarah's soufflé.

"Don't want to talk about it." Chuck proceeds directly to his bedroom. Devon gives Ellie a glance.

"Definitely not awesome."

Chuck didn't know what to expect of this new arrangement where Sarah and Casey were supposed to keep an eye on him. He woke up this morning hopeful that Dr. Zarnow would be able to get the Intersect secrets out of his head. Instead, Casey runs him off the road, he is almost blown up, he ruins his sister's dinner thinking he was trying to protect everybody, and then he gets thrown into a helicopter and almost crashes the damn thing trying to land it. To top the whole thing off, Sarah reams him out for accusing her of trying to kill him when she makes the EXACT same accusation of Casey. What the hell is going on?

He thought everybody agreed to play nice and work together, but that doesn't appear to be the case. Sarah thought Casey killed Zarnow under orders or some other reason, and Casey thought Sarah was rogue, just like her partner, Bryce Larkin. Neither of them tried to come up with an alternative, although he had to admit even he would never have guessed that Zarnow faked his own death to get to him. More grist for the mill, courtesy of Bryce.

That was another piece of information he was still trying to come to terms with. Even though he already knew, seeing Bryce's picture in the newspaper that morning put some sort of finality on it. Even with Bryce betraying him and stealing his college girlfriend, there was still a history between them. They made it through over three years at Stanford together. Bryce even introduced him to Jill. But in the end, he decided to send Chuck's life down this hideous path. First by getting him kicked out of Stanford, then by sending him the Intersect. And now the people who want to protect him are ready to just walk away from it.

Sarah's words hurt him. And Casey certainly didn't help when he decided not to bother clearing a few things up when he had the chance to do so. Chuck wanted to fix what he did wrong. Casey wouldn't have affected a successful rescue of her without him. And this was the result.

_Stay in the car_, Casey told him. Hindsight is always 20/20, isn't it? In some weird way, Chuck hoped that part of Sarah's anger might directed at that. She seemed almost as upset that he was risking his life as much as accusing her of stabbing him in the back. Chuck just wanted to make things right and get her out safely. Given how it ended up, he should have stayed in the car. Sometimes helping someone only makes things worse. He just learned that the hard way tonight. He knew he had to make amends for at least that much, if not more.

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Across the courtyard from Chuck's apartment, Sarah purposefully knocks on another door. She was still upset, but she had two people to talk to tonight. She already lashed out at the first one. She was still doing a slow burn that Chuck didn't trust her, but she was also doing an even hotter burn right now over who is likely the actual cause of it.

There was no way Chuck could have come up with the name Elana Truffaut on his own, or he would have said something already. Casey must have dropped the name, and Chuck's Intersect filled in the rest. She also didn't miss Casey kicking the table to knock the candle into her soufflé. Casey's first thought when they discovered Zarnow dead…or supposedly dead…was to accuse her of murder? What the hell would she have to gain by it? If she really wanted the CIA to have the Intersect alone, it would have been a simple matter of two quick phone calls, and Chuck would be in a holding facility. Why would she bother with Zarnow in the first place? She wanted the Intersect out of Chuck's head, both for the country and for him. Unfortunately, that time has come and gone for the moment. Zarnow tried to burn his trail, and the evidence was enough to convince Chuck that she had done it. She hated Chuck for thinking she could betray the country, but he's new to all of this. Casey should have known better.

Casey opens the door with his gun aimed straight at her head. She gives him a look of disgust, but she puts her arms out and turns around to show she isn't armed. He quickly gives her a patdown and checks her jacket to verify it. He motions with the gun for her to come in. She takes a quick inventory of her surroundings, as she is wont to do in this job. Casey hadn't fully moved in yet, but he did have several computers up and running, along with some sophisticated surveillance equipment and a single lounge chair in the middle of the room. She also noticed several bottles of high-quality scotch on a table near the kitchen, confirming her suspicions that he was something of a burnout. At least he didn't buy the cheap stuff.

"Chuck jeopardized himself tonight, but he wasn't the only one who did." Sarah keeps her voice even, choosing her words carefully.

"Agreed." Casey didn't have quite the problem limiting his usage of the English language.

"He's probably lying in his bed right now upset with himself over what happened, but he wasn't completely at fault. We didn't trust each other, and we're supposed to be partners in this."

"Well, you're the fake girlfriend. I'm sure you'll bat your eyelashes; show some leg, do whatever you have to do to him to right yourself." Casey's words could not be more antagonizing. Sarah's blood is boiling.

"Would you prefer we continue from this afternoon? The only reason you're not in a casket right now is because some horny teenagers have piss-poor timing!"

"Easy, Walker. You're not making this personal, are you?"

Sarah's eyes are daggers at Casey, but she does calm down. "My point is this. We can't undermine each other in front of him. We have to trust each other. Even if our bosses tell us one thing, we have to think about how that would affect Chuck. He's the asset, and we almost lost him because we weren't following our original instructions to play nice."

Casey's posture seems to relax as well. He realizes he still has the gun in his hand. He places it on a table behind him. "Very well. We talk to each other and stay on the same page, regardless of what anyone else says."

Sarah exhales. She wasn't sure if this would really work, but she accepted what she could for now. "Partners?" She extends her hand.

Casey regards her for a moment, and then he shakes her hand. "Partners."

"Good night, Agent Casey."

"Good night, Agent Walker."

Sarah exits Casey's apartment. She felt about 5% better than she did when she walked up. She looked over at Chuck's apartment and considered knocking on the door. However, there would be time to talk to him later, and she did not want to cause suspicion with Ellie and Devon.

There was one last person she wanted to talk to, but the only way she could do that now would be through a séance. Bryce brought all of this down on her. She has to deal with a cold-blooded NSA hitman, a sweet but naïve computer repair person and his entire group of friends and family, and she couldn't understand for the life of her why he did all of it. She was in love with him, and he would betray her like this? As skilled as she was at keeping her own intentions hidden from others, Bryce was a master of it. She was starting to wonder if their years together really meant anything to him. He had her doubting now if he was ever in love with her.

That last thought was making her feel pain and sorrow she didn't know she could still feel. After 5 years on this job, she thought she had insulated herself well enough from such things. Clearly she was wrong. But she still felt the need to attend his funeral tomorrow. Maybe she would get some closure. But somehow, this job never really lent itself to that.

She took one last look at the apartment building before getting into her Porsche. Tonight was a complete mess. She had to work to prevent a partner from being an enemy, and she would have to work to get Chuck to realize how vital he really is without resorting to yelling at him. She hoped the first one was fixed. The other would take time.


	3. Chuck vs the Tango

_Hello again. Just adding two more chapters tonight. The chapter for **Chuck vs. the Tango** gets a little into the head of Chuck and Sarah regarding how they felt the mission to capture La Ciudad went. And a few other things. ;-) As always, authors like me (did I just call myself an author? Yikes!) love reviews and feedback, so please leave some. Like John Belushi said in **Animal House**, "don't cost nuthin."_

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_**CHUCK VS. THE TANGO – TANGO, INTERRUPTED (2 POV's)**_

**CHUCK**

For a mission that was deemed highly successful, it certainly didn't feel like it. Even Casey telling him he did a good job didn't help a lot.

Chuck was relaxing in his bedroom after finally executing a proper meet-and-greet between Sarah and Ellie and Devon. No flaming soufflé, no microbot-laced quiches, just drinks, dinner, and friends…and Morgan. He wasn't 100% certain if the CIA covered social situations of this nature with their agents, but if Sarah was only pretending to be friendly with his sister and Awesome, she definitely deserves an Oscar for her performance. She told him she had a wonderful time, and she was proud of how well he did against La Ciudad. Still, he wished he would have done some things differently.

First and foremost, he would have kissed her in the Buy More.

He was actually surprised he thought up the "I'm uncomfortable with public displays of affection" excuse on spur of the moment. He was trying to get out of the situation without offending Sarah. He still felt like such a loser about it. If a beautiful woman wants you to kiss her, you kiss her! He had to grow a pair if this to work the way Sarah and Casey wanted. Crawling around the Buy More to avoid those two bodyguards, even as intimidating as they were, just didn't feel dignified in the end. Fortunately, Casey really did know how to move some merchandise.

He had to remind himself that it was their job to confront the bad guys, not his. Sarah posing as his girlfriend was a means by which staying close to him was plausible; hence the kiss that should have been. But he knew that it was just for cover, and he wasn't 100% certain he could leave it at just a cover kiss. A quick peck on the cheek can be done with anybody. Hell, his sister does it to him all the time. But once your lips touch hers past the point of just being friendly, there's something that passes between you. Something that he wasn't sure he wanted to know about if he and Sarah were only pretending to be a couple. What if he started feeling there was more to it than that? He knew that she would have to pull back and remind him they're only pretending to be boyfriend/girlfriend, and that would be a very awkward conversation. Best that he doesn't risk it. That turned out to be the right decision as they said their goodnights after dinner.

Another valuable lesson was to learn the man's part of the tango, preferably with someone wearing a lot more clothes and doesn't use the phrase "getting into many a _seniorita's pantalones_." In front of his girlfriend, who happens to be Chuck's sister, no less. Fortunately, the tango lessons from Awesome weren't a complete waste of time. Malena enjoyed the tango, or so she said right before putting a gun in his face.

It wasn't all bad, though. He did make it out alive and didn't give away any information. He was actually a bit proud of making up the fake painting story. The fake announcement he made over the Buy More P.A. helped Casey with the bad guys, even if the newly-fixed cage didn't. He was also relieved that trained agents both here and in England forgot their Spanish 101 classes as well, not realizing La Ciudad would be a woman, since "La" is generally used to describe feminine-gender nouns in that language.

His mind goes back to that tango. It was the right idea, but it was the wrong person as a partner.

It was the first time he saw Sarah in anything besides casual attire or her Wienerlicious outfit, other than their initial meeting. As it turns out, a 20 on a scale of 1 to 10 is still too low for her. The body-hugging red dress she wore to the Wilshire Grand made her look even more beautiful, if that was actually possible, than anything she had worn up to that point. He could just imagine doing the tango with her, moving across the floor, attached hand and hip, running his hands down her arms as she presses up against him. Hopefully, the "famous dip" would result in something a lot nicer than a flash like it did with Malena. Their faces mere inches from each other, as he looks into her ocean blue eyes. Each of them feeling the scent and the heat from the other…

"Cover girlfriend, Chuck. Cover girlfriend." He rolls his eyes, annoyed with himself, and drifts off to sleep. Maybe Ellie was right that Sarah looks at him in a way that said more than a cover relationship, but it seemed like he and Sarah kept to just a cover when they said goodnight.

**SARAH**

"_Nice guys aren't sent government secrets,"_ her boss told her right before she went on her "date" with Chuck. Apparently, they are.

Sarah was finishing her reports to Director Graham regarding the capture of La Ciudad. She had a bad feeling about this mission at first, since she didn't want to risk the asset in the field. However, she was outvoted by everybody else. Fortunately, everything worked out for the best, and one of the toughest international criminals out there is now in custody.

She reviewed everything that happened in her mind, as she always does once a case is complete to make sure she didn't miss anything and to remember anything that would have to be fixed for the next time. She had to smile to herself. She never saw anybody as nervous as Chuck was when she told him to kiss her. In a way, it was very sweet. But she needed him to kiss her for two reasons: one professional and one personal. She needed him to sell the cover in front of his co-workers, many of whom teased him mercilessly about it. But a part of her was also very curious about that guy who holds all the government's secrets in his head. He was deceptively cute, and those puppy-dog brown eyes could make her lose her thoughts if she stared into them long enough.

Maybe she was unconsciously comparing him to Bryce. She thought it was fascinating the two of them were college roommates, because she couldn't think of two men who were more opposite in nature. Bryce was always focused, confident, bordering on arrogant, and always acted like he knew everything. Chuck was sweet, caring, humble to a fault, and funny. The "I like you, Chuck," she uttered during their first dinner was part of the cover, but now she was realizing that it was much more than that. Moreover, she didn't think Chuck could truly betray her. It just didn't seem in his nature. He could make mistakes, certainly. But she felt like he would always have everybody's best interests at heart.

The mission at the Wilshire Grand didn't go according to plan, but missions almost never do. Chuck flashed on the wrong person at first. Sarah blamed MI-6 for that, as they should have let the CIA in on what they were doing. They might have been able to help. Unfortunately, while she and Casey were keeping their agents at bay, Chuck ran into the real La Ciudad. She was impressed that he didn't give any information away and wasn't hurt.

She got another laugh out of Chuck being duped by Casey into learning how to tango. Learning every type of dance was Langley 101 work, and she became quite good at it. Truthfully, it was one of the more fun things she did while going through CIA training. Most trainees felt that way. Of course, it didn't hurt that her regular dance partner was very attractive and she had been past her "Jenny Burton" days for a couple of years by then.

It was a shame that work had to interfere. Chuck looked so dapper in his tux, almost borderline hot. She was curious to see if those lessons really paid off. To feel him holding her as they stepped, placing his workstrong hands on her hips as she felt him behind her. To be held in his arms as he dips her at the end, and then he draws her to his face, their lips merely inches apart.

"_You know, if we were really dating, this would be the part where I'd be forced to kiss you goodnight."_

"_Forced? Would it be so bad?"_

"_I'm sure I could suffer through it."_

"_Me, too."_

Sarah shakes her head to bring herself back to reality. _"He's an asset, Walker, he's just an asset." _Maybe if she said that enough times, she could convince herself it's true.


	4. Chuck vs the Wookiee

_You get 2-for-1 tonight, as I came up with a great idea for Chuck vs. the Wookiee. Or to be more precise, nobody else decided to do this, which surprised me. Let's face it, we ALL want to know what happened in Prague, not just Chuck. Here's one theory. Definitely not one of my darker chapters, to say the least._

_NOTE: This will push the "T" rating a bit towards the end, so just warning you now. And push that little green "Review this Chapter" line if you ge the time tonight. It would be most appreciated._

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**_CHUCK VS. THE WOOKIEE – WHAT HAPPENS IN PRAGUE…_**

_**Prague, Czech Republic  
August 12, 2005  
11:30 PM**_

Casey surveyed the nightclub, watching the 20-somethings bump and grind on the dance floor. The only thing that distinguished this club from any club in the States was the inordinate amount of cigarette smoke, which bothered him to no end. He practiced not coughing for this mission, knowing he would eventually end up here, but there was nothing he could do for his watery eyes. However, such inconveniences would have to be ignored. He had a job to do.

He found his mark at the opposite end of the club, sitting in a booth with two different flavors of arm candy, blonde and brunette, on either side of him. Ironically, it was the two women with the plastic personalities to match their chests that presented the problem. This was a smash-and-grab job, with the mark being the one who gets smashed. However, Casey needed some alone time with the mark, and these ladies would not provide it. Yet.

He bided his time, trying to blend in as best as he could. The Tylenol and water he took earlier was helping him with the vodka and Red Bulls he was drinking now. He hated them, but there weren't a lot of scotch drinkers in this club, and he was trying to remain inconspicuous.

His opportunity presented itself. His dossier indicated his mark's dates, to use the term loosely, had an affinity for _Ready to Go_ by Republica and absolutely had to dance to it. If the DJ played the club version, as Casey expected, it would give him 6 minutes and 5 seconds, which was more than plenty of time. He watches the two women light up at hearing the song and hit the dance floor after giving the mark a kiss and a none-too-subtle caress under the table. He sits back in the booth, relaxed and alone.

Casey had practiced this part two nights ago in the club. He walked in measured, stumbling steps, trying hard to make it look like he was drunk without being overt. He wanted to dance on that line between uninhibited and noticeable. He made his way around the edge of the dance floor, checking to see that his drink was in the perfect position. His NSA instructors were always telling him to work on his acting skills. If he had a weak spot, it was situations where he had to appear harmless, and this was one of those situations. Intimidating was his wheelhouse; innocent took a lot of work.

He was within a few steps, and the mark had the significant alcohol haze Casey anticipated. Two people were about to pass out. However, one of them was faking it, and the other would never wake up again. Casey makes his stumble, landing awkwardly on the mark, spilling the drink all over. Both men fall into the booth behind the table. Out of sight, Casey wraps his arm around the neck of the mark and jerks hard, breaking the man's neck. He carefully sits up, pretending to look horrified that he spilled his drink on the mark.

"Vážený pane, je mi líto, že to jenom." ("Sir, I am very sorry to do that do you.")

Casey glances around quickly and realizes he didn't even have to say that much; nobody was paying attention. All the better as he checks the pulse of his mark to confirm he is dead, then pushes the man's eyelids shut. He goes into the mark's pocket and finds the safe deposit box key that was the goal of this mission. He pulls the dead man up and leans him back in the booth, using a nearby post for a headrest. He gets up as the mark's dates return.

"Nejlepší nebude obtěžovat ho příliš mnoho. Je to prostě mrtvý na nohy večer." ("Best not to bother him too much. He's just dead on his feet tonight.")

Casey continues his stumble towards the restroom. Quickly he enters the stall. He takes a good look at the key he recovered. This key would be a big help in tracking down several terrorists involved in the heroin trade overseas. Memos and plans to reroute shipping lanes to fool Interpol and local authorities were contained in that safe deposit box.

Of course, he doesn't think he can just walk out, as the mark was well connected and surely had guards outside. However, he could change his shirt, the wig he was wearing, and walk back into the club as a different person. One would expect an agent to run like hell and get out of Dodge if they just stole something crucial, so Casey chose to do just the opposite. He would hang out in the club and leave when a majority of the club hoppers would. The task now would be to blend in.

As he returned to the dance floor, the crowd was getting into the music even more than before. No doubt they had a lot of "liquid courage" inside of them at this point and were far less inhibited. For a brief second, he envied their "party like there's no tomorrow" attitude, as he spent his formative years ensuring there would be a tomorrow for them to party. Perhaps that brief little bit of envy made him notice the redhead on the dance floor, surrounded by 4 sloshed pretty boys. She didn't seem to take notice of them, but her morning sky-blue eyes were locked on Casey.

She was the first woman Casey ever took note of in this way since Ilsa's death. That haunted him for a long time, and he vowed never to make the mistake of falling in love again. Every NSA agent is told not to fall in love with anybody, and almost all of them still have to learn it the hard way, like he did. But this wasn't love; it was Casey appreciating the fire red hair and come hither look she was giving him right now. Well, there was no rule saying he couldn't enjoy a little company while blending in. Actually, that would help sell the cover quite well.

The 4 drunk, horny guys seemed to fall away at Casey's mere presence in front of the woman. She had a smile that could light up a room and spell trouble at the same time. Casey always liked that combination. She saunters up to him as a new song booms out over the speakers. She grinds her hips against him as she takes his face in her hands. His hands go instinctively for her hips as they move to the beat of the song. Her smile becomes even wider as their dance gets sweatier and more intense. Casey can actually feel his posture relaxing as he dances with this woman. Hmmm, maybe you can have a little fun on this job without actually killing someone.

She turns around, pressing her back into Casey. She grabs his hips to keep him close, and then she sways her backside in just the right location to keep Casey very interested. She takes his hands, sliding them slowly under her top along her taut stomach, stopping them just short of her breasts, ensuring they keep their moves on the dance floor above board, albeit barely. She purposefully flings her hair to the left so the right side of her neck is exposed. Running her hand along Casey's face, she pulls him down to her so he has no doubt she wants him to devour her neck, which he dutifully does, the upstairs brain no longer in control at this time.

As a different song with a slower beat begins, she turns toward him, hooking her leg behind his and pressing her lips on his, her tongue dancing and demanding a response inside of his mouth. She takes out what looks like a hotel key card. Casey recognizes it as the hotel across the street from the club. She playfully runs it along the tip of his nose, arching her eyebrows in a way that left no doubt what she had in mind. Had Casey been thinking straight, he might have thought this was a bit too convenient. However, he had the key, his mission was accomplished, and he waited a reasonable amount of time to make sure nobody associated him with the elimination of a major terrorist a while ago. Since he couldn't leave for two days anyway, a little dalliance wouldn't hurt, right? Stress management? You can only go to the scotch bottle so many times to unwind.

The two hurry across to the hotel. The second they are in room 1104, she is all over Casey, kissing him hard and unbuttoning his clothes. He tries to retake some semblance of control, lifting her up and carrying her to the bed as she continues to flutter her tongue inside of his mouth. The two collapse on the bed as she removes her blouse and rolls on top of Casey to remove the rest of his clothes. She removes his shoes quickly and then goes for the belt. She slides his pants off quickly, taking the boxers with them. She crawls up his body, planting kisses anywhere and everywhere she can. Straddling him, she starts kissing and licking his neck, slowly sliding his arms up while moaning into his ear. She continues her assault on him, kissing him hard with want. She grinds her hips on top of him to emphasize her point…or perhaps his. He is completely distracted by her, so he never even hears the tiny clicks of metal against metal. However, he can feel the cold steel on his wrists. He looks behind him to see his wrists handcuffed to the bed. She kisses her way to the side of his face, tickling his ear with her tongue.

"Hi, Johnny."

Casey's eyes go wide. How in the hell did she know who he was? How did she know he was on a mission? He didn't ask how he allowed this to happen. His own stupidity was the answer to that.

He isn't given time to protest, as she takes off her bra and stuffs it into his mouth. She rubs her breasts along his face as a final tease. She remains on top of him with a slightly disappointed look on her face, as this had to end. "Well, at least now I know you're nickname isn't 'Big John' because you're 6'4"."

She extracts herself from him and reaches into his pants pocket, retrieving the key Casey got from the mark.

"I'm Carina. Not to worry. I'm one of the good guys. It's just I'd rather receive the credit for retrieving this and help the DEA stay one step ahead of the drug cartels in the Far East. I do like your style. It took you 2 minutes what would have taken me two hours."

She starts to put on her clothes. "Unfortunately, I have a plane to catch. Otherwise…" she glances down at Casey approvingly. "…I would have definitely had fun with that."

Casey was 20 shades of mad and 40 shades of embarrassed. Sadly, he suspected it wasn't the first time a man was emasculated and complimented in the same sentence.

"You know, I shouldn't leave you like that," Carina responds in a tone that is part mocking and part sympathetic. She retrieves a towel from the bathroom and tosses it on Casey. She glances at where it landed and smiles.

"Guess you need a bigger towel. See ya, Johnny."

Carina walks out of the hotel. Casey remains handcuffed to the bed, cursing himself for being duped like that.


	5. Chuck vs the Sizzling Shrimp

_I don't know why, but this chapter is a lot longer than I expected. I played around with a few ideas, notably a conversation between Chuck and Morgan at the end over a game of Mortal Combat where they do the fake dubbing you see in classic kung-fu movies. But somewhere this idea popped in my head. Not sure why. As always, please leave feedback._

_Am I the only one to think that Mei-Ling Cho, played by Gwendoline Yeo, is something of an underrated hottie in the Chuck universe? OK, maybe she's not on the Yvonne Strahovski/Sarah Lancaster level. But you never hear anybody talk about her, and she has definite Michelle Yeoh potential, combined with Lucy Liu looks. (and hopefully a lot less trouble) The question I have is, how did she manage to get by Jeff and Lester as a delivery person without wanting the kick the crap out of them, as most people would want to do? Hmm, let's find out what happened in the Buy More from her angle._

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CHUCK VS. THE SIZZLING SHRIMP – THE ULTIMATE IN SELF-DISCIPLINE

Mei-Ling surveyed the store carefully, as she was trained to do. The Chinese Secret Intelligence Service was very thorough on such locations, covering everything from French restaurants to the Scandinavian countryside to even Disneyland. The store looked like every American retail store she had seen in pictures and video. If this was any other day, perhaps she'd even pick up an MP3 player, which is probably much better in quality in this store than those horrid knockoffs she could get in the marketplaces back home. But she was trying to contain her fear and anger at not being able to get Lee back. That idiot helped Ben Lo Pan get away with him, and he is somewhere in this store. It wasn't even a matter of motive on his part. He didn't know any better. Those types of people are worse than a true enemy because they are much harder to predict. They tend to trip over their own feet when they think they are helping, and they sometimes take you down in the process.

She had one chance. She knew the idiot had two people working with him. She knew little about them. The tall one reminded her of a few of the senior agents in the SIS: too full of bluster and too constipated to think laterally. The blonde looked like she belonged in one of those romantic comedies or old beach movies from the 60's where everybody danced. However, Mei-Ling was not above using her feminine wiles to get what she needed in this job, and she guessed the blonde was equally good at it. Fortunately, the blonde was not here, so Mei-Ling only needed to keep eyes on the idiot, who didn't want to move from his desk, and the taller one. And to keep moving within the store.

She had the two spotted now. The tall one with the hatred problem was in the back, so she positioned herself on the opposite end of the store, keeping the incompetent Samaritan in the white shirt between them. She places the call.

"_I am looking at you right now."_

"_Oh, ho. You're looking at me right now. Ha-ha-ha. And who is this?"_

Mei-Ling didn't think names were necessary. _"Let's just say, you owe me for ruining my rescue operation."_

That got him going. She could now see his nametag with Chuck on it. Chuck Bartowski. An unusual name, but every nationality in the world could be found in the USA. He started looking for his partner.

"_Put your hand down! If you signal your friend, it's the last thing you'll ever do. By the way, nice mustard stain."_

"_Where are you?"_ The idiot looks to the exit, a good 60 degrees away from her.

"_Not near the sorority girls." _

"_Uh, what exactly do you want?"_

She would try a little gamble. Perhaps playing to his sense of humanity will work.

"_The Triads put a clock on my brother's life. He dies in 9 hours if I don't do something."_

"_Okay, yeah. About that, about that, listen. I'm really, really sorry. And if there is anything I can do to make up for it."_

"_Help me rescue him."_

It was a good gamble. This Bartowski may be incompetent as an agent, but at least he wants to make things right. But getting him to help wouldn't be the problem. She needed his partners. The ones who could go into Ben Lo Pan's estate and take on his Triad guards.

Bartowski's attention is taken away by the short bearded man.

"_One word to him and you're a dead man, too."_

"_Listen to me, listen to me. I'm a Good Samaritan, and I just helped the wrong guy. I help people run computers, not rescue operations."_

That explains it. She should have guessed he wasn't a field agent; he was merely their technical support. They must have a first-class operation going. It took her 9 months to get a decent laptop from her technical department. It was time to take away his last avenues of protest.

"_I tailed you and your handlers. You have a team watching your every step. Which means you can help and you will."_

She sees the tall handler return. She has to get out of the store quickly.

"_I'll be in touch soon."_

She ends the call and retreats to a car in the parking lot. She watches the two men walk over to the restaurant, where she had observed the blonde handler working earlier. If he was doing what she hoped he was doing, he'd bring them to her.

Observing the store earlier that morning, she knew she had to get Bartowski in a secured area. She grabbed a clipboard and changed into a shirt she stole from a delivery office two hours ago. She took a quick survey of her attire in the rear-view mirror of the car. The look seemed sufficient.

She walks into the store to the same desk where Bartowski sat earlier. She encounters an unfocused older man with little hair on his head and a short, dark-skinned person who appeared to have Indian or Pakistani features. Both of them had their eyes fixed about 8 inches south of hers. She tries to hide her disgust.

"I have a delivery of hard drives. I need your supervisor to sign for them."

The balding one gives her a lascivious look. "Oh, I can take care of that for you, if you like." He tries sauntering up to her. As much as she would like to break body parts off of him, she can't afford any slip-ups. Lee is counting on her. She sidesteps him quickly.

"I must speak with…" She pretends to check the clipboard to sell the ruse. "…Mr. Bartowski personally."

"Ah, well, if you must." The short Indian responds, clearly trying to pick up where the taller pig left off. "You can wait by the storage cage in the back, since that's where they'll go anyway."

"Thank you." She walks quickly back towards the cage. She suddenly turns around, giving the two morons an angry glance. She correctly deduced they were leering at her backside, and they quickly tried to cover for themselves. It must be a universal truth among women: some men are nothing but swine.

Five minutes later, she can hear someone walk up behind her. By the sound of the footfalls, she guessed it was Bartowski. The two handlers wouldn't have been so careless to make as much noise.

"_Oh, hey. I think that's for me."_

_Indeed it is,_ she thought, as she turned around and pointed her gun at him.

"_Please tell me that's not real. The gun, not the clipboard."_

She sticks the gun in his chest. "_Real enough?"_

"_Please, please. They agreed to help you if you defect."_

"_What?"_ She wasn't expecting this.

"_It's really…really not that bad here. The Chinese food is actually pretty good. Have you ever tried sizzling shrimp?"_

She was in disbelief. Where do they find these people?

"_Drop the gun! Drop it!"_

Mei-Ling sees his partners come in, guns drawn. She grabs Bartowski and puts her gun to his head.

"_Shoot me, I shoot him!"_

"_Hey, hey, I got an idea. How about a new plan that involves less shooting?"_

She's almost ready to shoot him herself for being so annoying. Yet he continues to talk.

"_Casey, Casey, you promised to help her if she defected, right?"_

"_I would never."_ She loved her country and her family there.

"_Why?"_ the hardened agent said. _"Too much loyalty to your government? The same one that left your brother for dead?"_

Those words stung, but she knew she couldn't do it. _"If I defect, I can never go back to China. I will never see my brother again."_

Then the idiot she was holding said the most hurtful fact of all. It was the one she tried to keep out of her mind since landing in Los Angeles.

"_And if you don't, you'll lose him forever. And you don't want that."_

Somehow, she managed not to change her facial expression, but inside she was ready to cry. She didn't want to lose Lee. She loved her brother, and she would do anything to protect him. If never seeing him again and being forced to remain in the United States was what it took, then that was what she would do.

"_How do I know I can trust you?"_

"_You don't really have a choice."_

If it weren't for the blonde hair, Mei-Ling would swear she was listening to her supervisor interrogating suspects. But she needed them. She removes the gun from the computer nerd's head and pushes him towards his partners. She hoped they could really be trusted. Her brother's life is at stake, and this is not about politics. It's about family.

* * *

She had always heard this city had a terrible pollution problem, but it was nothing compared to Beijing. The weather was also much nicer here. She tried to keep her mind away from never returning to China, but looking at her brother, safe and sound now, made that thought much more bearable. The Americans held up their end of the bargain. The two that went in with her were very talented, even though Ben Lo Pan had set a trap for them. Fortunately for everyone involved, the goofy computer guy created a diversion at the restaurant and released them from the freezer. She wasn't really sure why he kept acting as if he needed to be elsewhere the whole time, but she thought she heard him say something about his family once or twice. Another universal truth, she surmised.

She hugged Lee goodbye as he headed back to the consulate. She approached the three Americans.

"_Thank you, Chuck."_

"_Oh, yeah, hey. Don't mention it. You're welcome."_

Chuck was rather humble for someone that helped save her brother's life. And she couldn't help but notice the looks his two partners gave him. The angry one, Casey, looked ready to kill him, but she suspected that may be his way. She may have been wrong, but she thought she caught the blonde give Chuck a look that would suggest something beyond being partners. Mei-Ling wasn't sure, and it wasn't her nature to pry into someone's personal life.

"_Uh, before you go, could you sign this? This just says I was off-site fixing your computer and you were happy with the level of customer service I provided."_

Mei-Ling gives him a weird look. Didn't the store know what he actually did? It wasn't some sort of pretend store? They made him go through paperwork like this? She felt it best not to question it further.

Mei-Ling took a look around at what may be her new home. There were a lot of things she was going to miss, her family first and foremost. But maybe she would get to see them again someday. In the meantime, at least she knew she had a friend or two here. That's something everyone needs.


	6. Chuck vs the Sandworm

_Wasn't it a bit funny that Big Mike was practically begging Chuck not to mess up the interview for Assistant Manager? Of course, all of us know why. And I think it's safe to say that everybody in the store wanted Chuck to have the job over Harry Tang. Chuck got to hear a few of those comments._

_The second half of this, since I can't seem to write anything under 1,500 words (and I had an 11,000 word chapter in my long fanfic), deals with continuing the conversation between Chuck and Morgan at the end of "vs. the Sandworm," perhaps foreshadowing a few of the changes both of their lives would soon make._

_And of course, please leave feedback. The next two chapters deal with the ladies. Sarah in Chapter 7, and Ellie in Chapter 8._

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CHUCK VS. THE SANDWORM – IN CHUCK WE TRUST**_

Chuck exits slowly out of Big Mike's office. It was not the most pleasant meeting he was ever called in to have. Having Big Mike describe his body as a temple and learning he would be an improvement over a prostate exam inspired Chuck to get the medical that came with being Assistant Manager…if only so he could afford the endless amount of therapy he now required. Funny how defusing that bomb at the Bonaventure inspired him to apply for this job, which had all of the headaches of being the manager with none of the alleged glory. Still, he couldn't deny that everybody would prefer he be the Assistant Manager over Harry Tang.

_And here they come_, he thought.

First up would be Jeff and Lester. They were in their usual trouble-causing state. For some reason, the looks they gave him were almost reverential. There were several angles Chuck figured they could be working for throwing their support behind him being Assistant Manager, and it would be difficult to figure out which would be correct.

"Chuck, uh, I would just like to say good luck with the interview for Assistant Manager. And if, you know, you need anything, like for us to talk to the HR guy, tell him how cool you are…"

"OK, Lester. I give up. What's your ulterior motive?"

"Chuck, there is no…I'm offended that you would think I have nothing but hope for you in getting…"

Chuck shoots him his "enough with the BS" look that he has perfected over several years. You had to know how to handle Lester, and Chuck preferred the truth.

"Well, that would move us all up, and I could be in charge of the Nerd Herd now."

"Ah, you do realize you would then have to deal with Jeff and Anna yourself and get them to do their jobs, right?"

"Well, it would be difficult at first, I admit. But I think we could…well, after a while, they would…" Lester starts to slink away. Management skills were not part of his resume, even though he wrote them down rather unconvincingly.

"Seriously, he is not one to give you good advice." Jeff decides to speak up. In a way, talking with Jeff had one advantage. It meant he wasn't scaring away customers.

"OK, and what would you like to say?" Chuck knew this was coming, and it was going to be creepy. Best to get it out of the way.

"You know the best thing to do with an interview is to picture them in their underwear, right?"

"I have heard of that advice before, yes."

"Well, maybe it'll be a big, intimidating guy with a Mickey Mouse shirt on, then he's still wearing the Underoos he had when he was…"

"ANYWAY..." Chuck cuts him off quickly. "Say no more, Jeff. I get the picture. So, please. I insist. Say…no…more."

Of course, just when Jeff thinks he can't be further in the hole, he manages to keep working that shovel. "Oh, I do have some courage pills you can take before the interview. Actually, they're in liquid form, if that's OK."

Chuck rolls his eyes and departs quickly. Is this REALLY worth the medical insurance? He walks towards the cage, where Anna intercepts him.

"Just want to say good luck, Chuckles, on the interview. I know you'll get the job."

"Thank you, Anna. I'll do my best." Chuck is actually relieved by a semi-normal reaction to this.

And then Anna starts moving in towards his personal space. "It'll be good that you can finally reward those who…deserve it. The ones who will be loyal to you." The way Anna is looking and talking to Chuck right now would drive any man insane.

"Uh, Anna. You do realize I'm seeing Sarah, right?" It was the first time he was happy to say that. Finally, the cover relationship worked in his favor.

Anna gives a dismissive flip of her hair. "I know. I'm just being appreciative of the potential management structure in this store. And anything I can do to keep that up."

Anna had that propensity to make anything sound sexy. She could make men horny reading a dictionary. Fortunately, Chuck knew her well enough to be immune.

It was almost time to go home. He took a look around the store. Most of the faces of the employees held hope. They wanted him to have the job. He didn't even really want the job, but he also didn't want to let these people down. This is what they wanted, and he thought he had to give it to them.

* * *

"_What, uh, what were you guys talking about?" _Morgan asks Chuck about his conversation with Sarah.

Chuck annunciates to make sure the bugs in the room pick up everything he says.

"_Oh, nothing. Just uh, Sarah was just telling me if she was stranded on a desert island, she would bring roast beef."_

"_She didn't say roast beef."_

"_Oh, she totally, completely…she completely said roast beef."_

"_Oh, that's a terrible, terrible sandwich. You know, she's smart and she's sexy, and kudos on the costume, it looked fantastic. But who brings roast beef to a deserted island? It's just a terrible choice. Ugh! You know what? You gotta dump her"_

"Dude, you actually want me to dump her over roast beef? I mean, it's not like she said bologna or something. At least she was thinking outside the box a little."

"Come on, man. I get the whole deal with her. She's, like, so into you it's frightening. But you gotta draw the line somewhere."

"And the line is roast beef?"

Morgan concedes. "OK, fine. A woman who would wear the Leia costume in public deserves some leeway. How did they find out about that, anyway?"

"That damn _Friends_ episode. Now women think every guy likes that."

"Well, we do."

"But they didn't need to know that! Ellie made me watch that crap. Sucks there wasn't really anything on at that hour in high school. I got a lot of my homework done then. I hated that show."

"Mm-hmm." Morgan regards him for a second. "You had a thing for Jennifer Aniston, didn't you."

"And on that note, I'll be outside. I'm sure Sarah would like some friendly faces around instead of drunken guys gawking at her costume."

Chuck stops and turns around again. "Hey, thanks for what you did today. I know I left there in a lurch. But you really stood up for me when I haven't given you any reason to do so lately. You really are a good friend."

"Well, hey. You do it for me 24/7, so I think I gotta at least step up if you have to have a coffee break, or a girlfriend emergency sometimes, right?"

"Speaking of which, I noticed Anna singing your praises the other day during Mystery Crisper. You thinking of doing anything about that?"

"Well, I don't know, Chuck. I mean, she has a lot of possibilities in the store."

"Yeah, but I'm guessing she would restrict her potential suitors' list to within the species."

"Good point. Well, who knows. I mean, if someone like Sarah can be nuts about you, anything is possible, right?"

"Gee, a compliment and an insult in the same sentence. I like it." Chuck smiles at him and exits through the Morgan door.

Looking out through the courtyard, he sees Sarah talking with Ellie and Awesome. He walks up to her, and she takes his hand, kissing him on the cheek.

"What happened to the sandworm?"

"Oh, well, we thought we'd give it a rest for now. Besides, what kind of boyfriend would I be if I didn't spend some time with you?"

Sarah smiles at him for more than just pretending her boyfriend complimented her. She admitted Chuck had a way of treating her like a friend instead of a protector. She didn't have that happen often without the person she was trying to protect have some sort of ulterior motive.

Chuck grabs two beers out of the cooler, and they walk across the courtyard, getting away just in time before Ellie berates Devon on yet another dropping of the word "awesome." They sit down at the fountain.

"How are you feeling?" Sarah continues to hold his hand, even though the cover doesn't require it right now.

"I'm better. I guess I'm still a little upset over what happened at the pier. To turn my back on Morgan and everybody at the store and end up like that because I trusted Laszlo."

"But would you have people like Morgan and Ellie and everybody at the Buy More if you weren't so trusting? People look up to you around here. They like you. I'm a little jealous, to tell you the truth. My job requires doubting first until proven otherwise. Trust is something that is hard for me to accept. Even before I was in the CIA, it was my biggest problem."

Chuck turns to her. He found her words a bit hard to believe. "I think people trust you more than you realize. And I mean, as you. Not as someone who is supposed to watch out for me. Ellie and Awesome don't know a thing, and I think they like you more than they ever liked Jill."

Sarah looks at Chuck. She had a mental rule at this point not to look into his eyes without sufficient reason for more than 5 consecutive seconds so she could maintain a mental distance from him. She knew that it was necessary in order to protect him to the best of her abilities. But then he says things like he just did, and it becomes far more difficult to keep that rule. Chuck was so different than any person she ever had to pursue or protect. He was too good to be wrapped up in what was happening to him. He should be out enjoying life with someone special, not being watched every waking second because he held government secrets.

She holds up her beer bottle, more to give herself an excuse to move on to another thought than anything.

"Well, I will say this has been one of the best assignments I've had on this job. Cheers."

Chuck smiles and clinks his beer bottle on hers. "Cheers."


	7. Chuck vs the Alma Mater Part I

_As I'm sure all of you know, there has been extensive coverage of Chuck at Stanford. What some of you may not know is that Sarah graduated from Harvard. (Information available at __http://www/nbc/com/Chuck__.) The question is, we know that former CIA Director Langston Graham recruited Jenny Burton out of high school when her father was arrested for his own protection. The question is, how did Sarah fare with the Crimson up in Cambridge? This is a bit of a longer story, since it will cover a few items and has a lot of researched items as well. This will be in three parts. (I hope)_

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CHUCK VS. THE ALMA MATER – SARAH VS. THE CRIMSON, PART I

_**Cambridge, MA  
**__**August 20, 1998  
**__**3:00 PM**_

Sarah was actually surprised the Volkswagen made it all the way from San Diego.

The entire trip took 4 days. Perhaps she could have done it in three, but she didn't want to rush anything or push herself into driving too many hours and getting little sleep. She starts to think she should have flown here, but she knew that she only had so much money, and she wasn't certain if she would get a stipend or enough free time to earn money while here. She also was on a bit of a mission. After spending the first night in Albuquerque and the second night in St. Louis, she proceeded up Interstate 55, contemplating if she should go up Interstate 94 and take one last look at her life as Katie O'Connell in Wisconsin. She decides that she wanted to leave that behind. She makes the turn east just south of Chicago, bypassing Cleveland…and Rebecca Franco…on Interstate 80, spending her last night on the road in Buffalo before arriving today.

She left behind a load of empty delivery boxes, taking the reams of paperwork she had to study. Ever since that intimidating man in the black suit found her and told her about her father's arrest, she worked hard just to keep up with what was about to happen. She was about to embark on 4 years of college and train at the same time to be a field agent for the CIA. The concept of college alone was something she didn't originally contemplate. But to attend one of the most prestigious universities in the world…on the taxpayers' dime, no less…and go through specialized training was beyond anything she could have imagined. For the first time in her life, she felt like she was in control. She could make the decisions and reap the rewards of hard work.

She checks her map and locates Wigglesworth Hall, her dormitory for the next year. As she drove up, she took note of the BMW's, the Audi's, and the Mercedes Benz cars that many students had. They were moving more equipment into their dorm rooms than she saw in all the places she lived combined. She looked at her suitcase of clothes in the back seat, along with a few other assorted items, and the second box that was buried in the woods, the one Mr. Graham didn't see…or confiscate. She had enough in there where she could get her own apartment, but she thought it prudent to keep a low profile, and throwing money around would rock the boat too much.

She locates room 217 and unlocks it with the key that was sent to her by the CIA, thus bypassing the need to get an orientation packet from downstairs. She was fortunate; this was a one-person room. Being an outsider in high school for the last four years made her nervous about sharing the room with someone else. She thought she could handle it, but there was already enough pressure on her without trying to act friendly with someone she didn't even know.

In the room, a large safe sat under the window. A key on her ring opened that. A laptop and an attaché case were inside, along with what looked like a network cable that was connected inside the safe but could be uncoiled to go as far as the desk. A folder in the safe gave her a quick set of instructions on care and use of the laptop. Her first order of business was to go online and obtain her email address and orientation email. The email welcomed her to the Omega Theta Pi sorority and to attend the meeting in the Science Center, room B-217, tonight at 8 PM. She was to bring the laptop and have it on her at all times. Otherwise, it was to be locked in the safe when not in use. After noting some of the software on it, some that she recognized but most she didn't, she placed it back in the safe and took to the task of unpacking. She hid the money in her suitcase and placed it in the top shelf of the closet, hoping that the CIA wouldn't be in the habit of rifling through students' rooms.

_**Science Center  
**__**August 20, 1998  
**__**8:00 PM**_

She sat in a room with 34 other people, 21 men and 13 women, of varying religions, races, and physical statures, awaiting whatever this meeting was about, as it was clearly not a sorority meeting. Everybody looked to be either freshmen or sophomores. A few chatted amiably, but Sarah kept to herself. She wasn't one to say more than what was necessary. She was awkward at best in social situations, and the braces that were still on her teeth didn't help her feel socially confident.

Langston Graham walked into the room with a scowl on his face that would intimidate most pro football players. His eyes bore into every single person sitting around. Everybody quieted down within two seconds.

"Let me explain this as clearly as I can. All of you are here because you have the potential to be field agents with the CIA. But let me tell you now what that will and will NOT entail. What it means in simple terms is that you will do whatever it takes to complete the assignments given to you. There are few rules we play by in the field, and we have no qualms about giving you up for dead at any time. And if you don't think you have the stomach to kill someone with your bare hands who may be kinder than your mother and might really be an innocent person, you're in the wrong business. This job isn't about martinis and cool gadgets and banging anything that moves. Get that James Bond shit out of your heads right now. It will get you nowhere with me or this organization."

Given how much she has had to tolerate in her life, there were very few people that Sarah found intimidating. Graham shot to the top of that short list.

Graham continues. "For your security and ours, if you decide to continue with this program, you can cancel every vacation, every summer break, every moment of leisure as of right now. You won't be able to visit with family or friends unless it is under controlled circumstances that we dictate. The less people know about what you do, the better. Besides your classes here, you will be trained in combat situations, hostage rescue, elimination strategies, world affairs, and enticement of personnel. You will get us the data or material we need to keep this country protected, whether you have to steal for it, kill for it, or screw for it. The average life expectancy of a field agent is 10-12 years, at the end of which, you usually end up in a mental ward or a pine box."

Graham looks out over the group. "Anybody who wishes to walk, the weekend will be your final chance. After this, you'll work for the CIA in some capacity, whether you want to or not. After tonight, you become too valuable and know too much to just be set free." The next meeting will be here on Monday night, same time. Think long and hard about if you want to do this."

Sarah had the feeling that last part wasn't directed at everybody. It certainly didn't apply to her. She was here because Graham was trying to keep her from being killed. She wouldn't need the weekend to think about it. Even if it wasn't about being protected, this was something she could do, something that would give her a sense of accomplishment because she would earn it.

She attended that Monday meeting.

_**Cambridge, MA  
**__**October 15, 1999  
**__**11:30 PM**_

Sarah wasn't sure how first dates were supposed to go, as this was her first ever. But the night with Alan seemed to go great.

The last year was every bit the crazy whirlwind she anticipated. She fared reasonably well in her classes. She got A's and B's in most of them, other than a few C's in the mathematics classes. For some reason, she wasn't as skilled in math and science as she was in literature and history. She excelled in the CIA-sponsored classes, learning about world affairs, different political systems, and diplomacy.

The combat classes were the most fun.

She thought she would do reasonably well in those, having some experience prior to coming to Harvard. She worked hard in hand-to-hand combat, learning 12 different martial arts disciplines. She had the third-highest scores in the class. She wasn't 100% happy, but the two men above her were as fast as she was and could bench press 400 pounds. Sometimes, you just have to concede you can't do everything. Fortunately, her skills with a knife and a gun were unsurpassed even by the men in her classes. She was the first freshman to score above 90 on the pistol range.

Unfortunately, those skills were what kept her in from getting bad grades. Rescue simulations were tougher because she had difficulty trusting someone else to do their job as well. She knew these had to be team efforts, but she couldn't stop herself from doing all of the work. It didn't matter if she could single-handedly pass the simulation. She had to learn to trust others.

This was where the idea of going on a date came from.

Although she thought more than a few of the men on campus were very cute, she didn't have it in her to approach them and ask them out, nor did they approach her freshman year. But 4 months ago, she got the braces off. When she got a look at her teeth, she realized the braces were well worth the effort. Once she got into the habit of smiling, which she had to practice quite a bit in the mirror, it looked beautiful, and people took notice. Soon after, she tried a different hairstyle, which complimented her new smile even more. She started dressing in clothes similar to the ones she saw a few of the sorority sisters wearing, and suddenly more than a few females were jealous. She had more than a few guys looking...the nastier ones leering...at her as she made her way across the quad on a daily basis.

She decided to accept a date from Alan, who was in her Macroeconomics class. He was certainly attractive, came from a good family, and appeared to be one of those men that women fell over themselves trying to get. Perhaps she could get practice letting her guard down a bit.

Everything went well. He was a good conversationalist, he was charming, and Sarah couldn't not look at his hazel eyes. When he walked her back to the dorm, he moved in for a kiss. This would be her first, and it was everything she had hoped her first kiss was. It started out tender; the feel of his lips against hers was an experience that sent shockwaves through her entire being. She never heard stories from other women about how their first kiss went, but certainly they had to bear some resemblance to this one, as it was bordering on magical. The kiss intensified, radiating heat through her she never experienced before as she cradled his face in her hands. His tongue wanted to touch hers, and the intensity within her shot through the roof.

She was so wrapped up in the kiss, she didn't even feel him unbutton her blouse.

It wasn't until she felt his hand cupping her breast that it dawned on her. It sent a different kind of shock through her. It was something she eventually wanted, but the events of the evening were something she wanted to treasure as they were, and she wanted sex to wait until she was ready for it, and on her terms. She pulled his hand away and continued the kiss, but his hand went right back there. She grabbed his wrist and pulled his hand away a bit more forcefully this time, holding it at his side. She also tried to break away from the kiss, but his other hand was holding her head in place. The hand on him that dared to touch her without permission got away from her grip and tried to slide under her skirt. Her eyes opened wide, and she twisted his wrist 180 degrees, her other hand pushing down hard on his shoulder. He was flipped to the ground, and he was on his back. When he looked up at her, his eyes showed panic, even fear for his life.

When she saw her expression moments later when passing by a window, she saw what he saw. She had the look of someone who wanted to kill. It scared her. It's possible she has born that expression on her face previously, but it was her first experience seeing it for herself.

She knew she had to seek help.


	8. Chuck vs the Alma Mater Part II

_I'm sure everybody just loves not being able to upload right now. I forgot who said it, but they just changed one of their documents that was already on their account when they needed to add a chapter. So, in effect, I'll be cranking these chapters out as quickly as I can. But remember, reviews are still working! :-)_

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CHUCK VS. THE ALMA MATER – SARAH VS. THE CRIMSON, PART II

**_William James Hall (_****_Psychology_****_Building_****_)  
_****_October 18, 1999  
_****_2:30 PM_**

Dr. Janet Torres was considered one of the best in the field of criminology. She was an expert on profiling and how the mind of the hardest criminal and deranged killer worked. To say the least, the classes she taught at Harvard were very interesting. Hannibal Lecter was a well-adjusted being compared to some of the people Dr. Torres covered in her lectures.

Sarah thought it would be a better idea to talk to her faculty advisor rather than the psychiatrist. She didn't want the CIA know she felt the need to see a shrink. Her new life could be over before it ever got a chance to begin. She figured Dr. Torres might know why Sarah had that look in her eyes when Alan went too far with her.

Sarah waits quietly for Dr. Torres to finish with a student in her class.

"Missy, come on in! I'm surprised to see you when you aren't taking one of my classes." Dr. Torres recognized every student she counseled for the last 9 years. She always used a false name until the student was in her office, the door was closed, and she activated the surveillance jamming system so that their conversation wouldn't be heard. A tragic incident at Iowa State in 1993 led to this protocol across all campuses where the CIA trained recruits.

Sarah sat down in the chair and waited until Dr. Torres nodded approval to talk. "Do you have a few minutes, Dr. Torres?"

"Always for you, Sarah. There are very few freshmen who have the guts to take the profiling courses before they hit sophomore year, and you aced them by a mile. Although I'm still ticked you couldn't at least wait a year or two before shattering my record on the pistol range."

If Dr. Torres wasn't such an expert on human behavior, she might have resented taking to Sarah, who had turned into the epitome of her from 25 years ago. After a stellar rookie record in the CIA, Torres was loaned out to a couple of foreign agencies, including MI-6 and the Mossad. Unfortunately, a Hamas agent who had infiltrated the Mossad exposed her role in a crucial mission. Although that agent didn't survive a bullet from Torres' Smith & Wesson, it was 2 weeks of absolute hell attempting to escape the West Bank. She was found by the Italian SIS in Damascus, who assisted in her exfiltration back to Washington, D.C. However, the damage was done. The CIA arranged her funeral, leaving a husband and two daughters in Dallas to wonder forever why their wife and mother got taken from them. The one positive she could take from her experiences was it made her the quintessential advisor to female agents because of her unvarnished honesty towards them while still treating them as if they were her daughters.

"I needed to talk to someone about this, and I was afraid to go to the shrink…sorry, I mean psychiatrist. I didn't want anything to jeopardize my standing here."

"Sarah, visiting the psychiatrist would never jeopardize your standing here. Actually, the opposite is true. The CIA needs to know where you're at, physically, mentally, and spiritually, at all times. But somehow I get the feeling you just need to bend my ear. What's up?"

Sarah looks down and fidgets, struggling to get the words out. "I went out on a date the other night, my first one. Everything went well until the end of the night. We kissed, and it was wonderful. And then, he…well, went farther than I wanted him to. He didn't stop, and I ended up flipping him to the ground."

Dr. Torres' look suddenly hardens. "Sarah, if you're thinking for one second you did the wrong thing, I'll throw your ass out of this office right now."

"No, no. It's not that. It wasn't the reaction; it's what I was feeling. I saw my expression in a window, and…I was scared. He had a look of fear in his eyes, and I saw what it was. I looked like I wanted to kill. I'm afraid I might have murdered him if he tried to get up. What is going on? Is there something wrong with me?"

Dr. Torres sits back in her chair. To some extent, she was actually surprised it took Sarah over a year to talk about this. She knew this conversation with Sarah would eventually happen. Her pattern was not unfamiliar to Dr. Torres. It almost matched hers when she attended college in the late 70's

"Sarah, the only thing wrong with you is trying way too hard to make sure there's nothing wrong with you. I've seen it before; in fact, I'm more than a little familiar with it."

"You went through it, too?"

Dr. Torres smiles and nods. "You have three classic problems, Sarah. You try to be and do everything so you don't have to rely on others, you expect far too much of yourself, and you are too critical of yourself when you don't meet your ridiculously high standards. You are very smart and very talented. But you have to realize that yourself. People telling you that won't be of any use to you."

"I thought I was trying to be more open to others by going on that date. That was the purpose of it."

"And trying to solve problem #1 led to problems 2 and 3. Your first ever date and you wanted it to go perfectly? You put too much pressure on yourself in a situation that has too much pressure already. And because of how it ended, you instantly think you failed. You have to quit setting yourself up like that."

Dr. Torres went into a file folder. She pulls out two pictures and places them on the desk in front of Sarah. "Who are these two people?"

Sarah looks at the pictures and smiles. One picture is of Sarah from freshman year, still wearing the braces, the darker hair, and the conservative clothing. The other picture is of Sarah from two weeks ago with the lighter shaded hair and more relaxed posture. The picture even caught two guys checking her out behind her back.

"They're both pictures of me."

"Indeed. But if I asked anybody who these two people were, they'd give me two different answers." Dr. Torres holds up the freshman picture. "This Sarah was a sweet person, but she was too quiet, too guarded, and too afraid to let her real personality show."

Dr. Torres holds up the newer picture of Sarah. "This is the Sarah you should be. The Sarah who is much smarter, far prettier, and is going to be a phenomenal agent. But old Sarah has to cut this woman some slack. Give her some credit for how far she has come. Once she does, I think that look will disappear, or at least be well under your control. The possibilities for you are endless once you realize what you can do."

Sarah looks down, embarrassed by Dr. Torres' words. Nobody ever talked to her as having this much talent or potential. Certainly nobody in high school did that. The students mostly teased her about her "jailbird" father, and the teachers had to contend with so many students in the class, fading into the background was not difficult. It's easy to be overlooked in a classroom of 40 students.

"But what should I do in the meantime when it comes to dealing with others?"

"You just have to start small. Keep it social and loose. Maybe a study group or find a homework partner. God knows you could use it with your mathematics and science classes. I don't want to see C's on your record. I want A's and the occasional B at worst."

That sounded like the Dr. Torres to whom Sarah was accustomed. She gives a mock salute. "Yes, ma'am." It elicits a laugh from her advisor.

"OK, now just get out there and work hard, like I know you'll do. The results will be there, and you'll be proud of them."

Sarah exits her office. She knew Dr. Torres was right. But trying to follow her advice would not be nearly as simple.

**_William James Hall (_****_Psychology_****_Building_****_)  
_****_October 20, 1999  
_****_10:55 AM_**

Sarah didn't know the name of the student, but they seemed to share a lot of the same classes. He actually reminder her of Mark Ratner, a student from her high school. She had always wondered if she should have approached Mark for a date, but she kept to herself too much in school to do that, and Mark had a lot of his own problems to contend with. She was going to take Dr. Torres' advice seriously. She was bothered by the lower grades in mathematics and science as well. She didn't think that drive to be the best could be taken out so easily.

After her experience with Alan, she decided to dress down for meeting with this person. The baggy sweatpants and oversized t-shirt seemed to do the trick, as well as putting her hair up so it looked like she rolled out of bed and went straight to class. She catches up to him as he walks out of the lecture hall.

"Uh, hi. I think you're in my Chemistry 205 class, right?" The fact that CIA training hadn't gotten to social situations yet might actually be helping Sarah in this case.

"Yes, yes I am. I think I remember you. You usually look very upset at the equipment. A few too many explosions for your liking?"

"Well, I'm not doing very well in the class, and I was trying to find someone who could help me out. I had seen you in a few of my classes, and I just thought I would ask you. If you want to help, that is. You don't have to."

Sarah was inwardly cursing herself for speaking the last few sentences too quickly. It made her feel like she was trying too hard to sound desperate. Once again, she was cursing herself when she actually said the right words.

"Sure, that would be no problem. I do charge exorbitant fees for helping out someone with homework."

Sarah didn't expect that, but she figured it would still be worth it. "How much?"

"My services cost exactly one pizza." That brought a big smile to Sarah's face. It felt good to genuinely smile. She can count the number of times she did that since being here on one hand and still have a few fingers to spare.

"OK, you have a deal." Sarah mocks a handshake agreement with him. "I'm Sarah, by the way."

"Hi, Sarah. I'm Trevor."

Dr. Torres was right. This was far easier than a date. And maybe it would help bring her grades up.

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_Hope you like the story. Part III (I was wrong, this is getting to four chapters now) will deal with the CIA course in Advanced Elimination Techniques, Sarah will have to deal with more social situations, and we get a glimpse into "seduction school." And is Trevor going to end up as more than a study partner? The more reviews, the more story you get._


	9. Chuck vs the Alma Mater Part III

_Glad to see everything is back up again. Thanks for reading this rather long response to "Chuck vs. the Alma Mater" in the ChuckMeMondays challenge. I probably should have written "Sarah vs. the Crimson" as a separate story, but I certainly didn't expect to get into this much detail when I started out._

_As always, please leave comments. They're free, right?_

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_**CHUCK VS. THE ALMA MATER – SARAH VS. THE CRIMSON, PART III**_

_**Leverett House  
**__**March 15, 2000  
**__**9:30 PM**_

Sarah hoped she was getting wiser and more in-tune to how things work in a program such as this. If nothing else, Trevor helped raise her grades.

She was starting to rely on Dr. Torres a lot more for advice, something she never even did with her father. Of course, her advice seemed to be correct more often than not. Trevor McKie was her polar opposite when it came to education. He was an expert in mathematics and science but needed help in humanities, language, and literature. Fortunately, Sarah was more than willing to help him with those aspects of his education in exchange for his help in physics and differential calculus. They alternated who brought the pizza. When feeling particularly daring, they opted for Chinese food.

It was a bit awkward at first. Sarah never interacted with other students unless it was absolutely required. And then, she only said the minimum to get the job done and did more than her fair share of the assignment on her own. However, she felt more relaxed studying with Trevor. He wasn't exactly the type of person women went out of the way to meet. Clearly he was at his best once you got to know him. It still took a lot to get Sarah to talk at this point. But at least he wasn't spending his time trying line after line on her to see which one would get her into bed.

Her CIA training continued to go well. Only one or two of the men were better than her when it came to physical activity, and nobody was close when it came to using weapons or planning strategies for infiltration, attacks, or extractions. This created a problem with several agents, particularly female agents. She went about her training in such a businesslike manner, it was starting to make one or two of them jealous. It was a concept Sarah couldn't understand, but she thought it was possible she might have been unconsciously jealous of a few students back in high school. However, she was more upset back then about her own life rather than not having theirs.

She started developing a "one of the guys" attitude, especially with the ones who had no chance of surpassing her scores but didn't have a complex about it. They playfully teased her about "catching up" to her when the annual summer session in Virginia would occur in two months, just after completing the semester at Harvard. The summer session this time around centered on "Advanced Elimination and Survival Techniques." "Death School" was the popular phrase to use. It was the class that flushed out the most people from field agent training. A couple of them hoped they could close the gap in points because they were out to prove they had the balls to survive torture and learning to kill with and without weapons. They figured the lithe blonde wouldn't fare as well in these aspects of training as they would. Maybe she could keep up with them in downing shots, but everybody has their weak spots. Once again, people underestimated that lithe blonde, which she used to her advantage.

Sarah started preparing for this class two weeks ago. She signed up for several advanced yoga classes to practice controlling her breathing and focusing her mind. The women's gym near her residence house was equipped the same way as the men's gym, so she spent an hour every alternate day working on the heavy bag. Fortunately, it was always available since few women considered that good exercise for them. An exercise she thought of was to hang from the pull-up bar for long periods of time to build upper body strength and endurance. Some of the ladies passing by commented behind her back that Sarah was "going Jesus" on them again, but Sarah researched that hanging in this manner was a possibility during captivity, and she wanted to build up her endurance.

One other exercise remained, and she needed help with it. She asked Trevor if he could build her a device at the lab that would ring a chime at random points in time between 30 seconds and 2 minutes. She told him it was for a class she was taking. Fortunately, he didn't question it further, and she had it within 48 hours. She actually needed it to practice waterboarding, which was an exercise that would be in that summer session. Once she had the device, she would lay on her bed with her head over the edge of it. With a blindfold on, she would practice holding her breath until the random chime went off. She contemplated getting a pitcher of water and trying to pour it over her face to simulate drowning, but that would take too much concentration away from controlling her breathing. She practiced for 30 minutes every night before going to bed.

_**Langley, VA  
**__**May 22, 2000  
**__**10:30 AM**_

A group of 16 students, 10 men and 6 women, walked into a very unusual room deep inside CIA Headquarters. There were chairs set up in front of a projector, which didn't make the room unusual in and of itself. However, surrounding the chairs were what looked like 100 mannequins, similar to the ones they use to practice CPR techniques. These were full-body mannequins, each weighing about 150 pounds. It would have made things creepy if the students weren't already nervous about this class. This was the first day of "Advanced Elimination and Survival Techniques" course that everybody feared. At least half the class would flunk out of this session, thus ending their careers as field agents.

The students sat down and turned silent at the sight of the instructor. The man who entered had to be at least 6' 7" and weigh 300 pounds at the minimum. This was not someone who could be subtle, and he would probably be insulted if he was called upon to be that. The only thing thicker than Colonel Scott LeBeau's posture was his Texas accent.

"Mornin, y'all. I am your instructor for Advanced Elimination and Survival Techniques. Death School will be the thang that makes or breaks you when it comes to bein' an agent. Y'all don't expect me to cut you any slack, because cutting you slack here gets you or someone else killed out there. No bullshit. You're gonna find out just how ready you are for this job. Your last two years of training will hone you into a finely skilled instrument; this class is a sledgehammer to the side of your head.

"I'm sure y'all noticed the dummies layin' about here. Each of those 100 dummies cost Joe and Jane Taxpayer $20,000 each. That's $2,000,000 of plastic surrounding you, but they're necessary to teach you the over 70 ways to make a kill with or without a knife or weapon of some kind. But hell, you think this is expensive, just walk inside of Congress. Those dummies cost us a billion dollars a year. And the morons in this country voted their asses in."

This elicits a slight chuckle from the crowd. Sarah got the impression that every class got to hear that joke. She certainly heard enough recycled jokes from her professors at Harvard already.

"Now a little warning to you ladies out there. You may think I'm old school and would treat ya dainty. But the opposite is true. I'm tougher on the ladies because you oughta have a higher kill ratio then the men. Anybody know why?"

Sarah raised her hand, and LeBeau called on her. "Because they don't expect it from women?"

"That's right, little lady. This may be the 21st century now, but a lot of places on the globe ain't got the memo yet. They're gonna underestimate you. They ain't expecting a killer out of someone they think oughta be sippin' Cosmos and makin' 100K a year and still bitchin' about not finding a man that can give 'em an orgasm."

Only the men in the room laughed at the reference. It felt good to gain some small payback from the estrogen-laced society they got thrown into all of sudden. Sarah smiled at the joke as well, since she could never envision herself having anything in common with the women on that _Sex and the City_ show, other than a successful career. One or two the ladies looked a little bit offended, but that seemed funny as well, given what all of them were about to do.

"Now you ladies and the more pussified men out there, don't you worry none about not being strong enough to kill someone with your bare hands. Most of these techniques are about leverage and positioning, not strength. The ones that are, I'll teach ya some alternatives. And now you'll get to see some of these in action before practicing them. I hope y'all didn't eat too much breakfast this morning."

Suddenly, everybody took note of the large amount of garbage cans on the outside aisles of the chairs. They didn't notice them before, but now they knew exactly why they were there. The lights go out in the room, a videotape starts playing on the screen, and every student is suddenly very nervous.

After an hour, when the tape finished, 12 students remained, and only three hadn't reached for one of the garbage cans. Sarah was one of them, although she got close once or twice. She took that as a good sign.

_**Thayer Hall Basement  
**__**February 15, 2001  
**__**8:00 PM**_

Even though this class was Sarah's favorite, as it was for everybody, her mind was a million miles away.

The dance classes they were taking were a welcome diversion from the constant pressure the students had in working towards their degrees while training with the CIA at the same time. Like almost every other class they took, Sarah excelled at this, although she regretted not having Jonathan as her dance partner. He was one of the guys in the class she developed a good relationship with last year. Unfortunately, he didn't make it past Death School, and he was now elsewhere. Sarah wasn't exactly surprised, but she was a bit saddened. Jonathan seemed a bit too nice to be caught up in the more seamy aspects of this job. She had hoped he would land on his feet somehow, maybe as an analyst. She was also grateful that Jonathan helped her out with kissing. He was the only man she could think of to practice with and have it be only about that. As it turns out, the lesson only took 5 minutes. After an initial practice kiss, Jonathan told her to make one or two adjustments about where she placed her hands on the man's face, let the man control the kiss every now and again, and that was it. The follow-up kiss ended up being a 20-minute makeout session. It took a lot of self-discipline for Sarah not to put Jonathan's hands under her shirt or start running her own hands all over him, but they eventually ended the kissing and managed to stay friends for the remainder of the semester.

Arthur was her regular dance partner for these classes, although some classes required changing partners. He was one of the ones who was intimidated by Sarah at first, but he eventually warmed up to her. Given that he came from the projects in Chicago, Sarah wasn't certain how he could find anybody intimidating. Then she met his girlfriend, Laneisha. She was in pre-law at Harvard, and everybody could tell already you did not want to find her sitting across from you in a courtroom. However, Laneisha was socially friendly, whereas Arthur was a quieter type. Sarah needed two people like this for a problem she had.

The summer session at Langley this year would deal with "Infiltration and Inducement of Enemy Personnel." The dreaded "Seduction School." Nobody had been given information on what would be covered in that class yet, but that didn't stop the rumors from flying. Some of the guys were boasting that the students would have to sleep with each other or that they would get to watch the "lingerie show" the ladies would be putting on. A well-practiced snarl from Sarah kept most of them at bay regarding her. However, she had yet to have sex with anybody, and she was worried it may be an issue in the class. She figured it wouldn't be difficult to find someone with whom to have sex, but she needed to control the environment as much as possible. She didn't want a repeat of Alan.

Fortunately, Laneisha was very sympathetic to her plight. Sarah covered for herself and Arthur by she had little experience in meeting men, and she wanted to plunge into the deep end of the pool while she still had the chance and her career wouldn't interfere. Laneisha volunteered Arthur and herself to act as wingpeople for Sarah. They planned their strategy carefully. They located a bar where it was primarily students, most of whom might be intimidated to hit on Sarah, but not all of them. Laneisha also knew one of the bouncers there. Joel was about 10 years older and a huge, monster-sized person. He was also supposed to be pretty nice under his grizzly bear exterior. She would make sure Joel kept an eye on things so that nobody spiked their drinks or nothing would get out of hand. Sarah could then hit on someone cute in the bar who would only look like they were interested in a one-night stand, or they would help her screen potential suitors that came up to her.

Arthur and Laneisha knew their stuff. The three of them started going out on various nights of the week. They started with Fridays, and then they did the occasional Saturday. When it got close to finals week, they tried a Thursday night, since a few students would be looking for some stress release, themselves included. They helped find her suitable partners. Sometimes she would play submissive in the bedroom; other times she was the aggressor. Of course, no guy got near her without using a condom. Getting pregnant or some kind of disease were major complications Sarah wanted to avoid.

Sarah and Laneisha made a basic checklist of techniques and moves Sarah should do or expect in bed, and she got to all of them. Only one time did one of these men want to talk to her on the campus and make it more than a one-night stand. Sarah was prepared for this. She tearfully "confessed" to Jake, the one guy who wanted to see her again, that she had heard her boyfriend cheated on her and she wanted some payback sex. But it turns out it was a bitter friend spreading a rumor, and her "boyfriend" took her back. The doe-like expression on her face and gentle kiss to his cheek sold him on the story. The last thing she wanted was to fall in love. She thought she wouldn't be able to look at herself in the mirror after that. It certainly wasn't the way she always envisioned college life being when she moved in almost 3 years ago. However, she knew she was getting close to a career where she would do so much good and would be in control over her own life.

_**Langley, VA  
**__**July 14, 2001  
**__**8:30 PM**_

Seduction School didn't quite go the way Sarah expected. But she was lucky. The guys were severely disappointed. There was actually little sex involved, other than videos and the occasional talk. And they didn't get to attend the "lingerie show" the ladies put on. Three instructors, all female, judged the ladies' attire and gave suggestions for improvement. Sarah stuck to blue or red attire, thinking black wouldn't get her points because that's too easy of a color to use. The only advice she was given was to wear attire that emphasized her long legs and tight backside. She completely forgot that all the exercise she had been doing for the last three years, which now included swimming and a daily jog around the campus, toned her body like never before. She had assumed since guys looked at her face and breasts the most, those would be the areas to emphasize. Of course, she didn't account for those who would also look at her once she passed by.

There were one or two discussions that where everybody was in the same group, and those tended to get quite raucous. Of course, the guys claimed they'd see right through any woman trying to seduce them, and the ladies knew the guys were full of it. However, their instructor warned them that it worked both ways in the 2000's. Men are a lot smarter than they used to be. They had been studying "the enemy" for some time. It was just as possible for women to be seduced by men, since men have changed their tactics. The final tests would prove who knew whom best.

This was the first time a test would involve a real-life situation. The CIA had several low-level priority marks that needed to be brought into the fold. A dossier was given to each student, and the assignment was to use whatever means at their disposal to obtain certain pieces of information, bring the mark up to their hotel room, or get them to a waiting car, where the CIA would whisk them away. The male students went first, since most of their assignments were in corporate offices during the day, mostly targeting assistants who knew information about their bosses. The ladies' assignments tended to be more at night, in restaurants and hotels. Sarah drew the final assignment, and the wagering among the students began.

Jacqueline Marsh didn't like Sarah, and the feeling was mutual. Jacqueline resented Sarah outdistancing her in all aspects of the training, and Sarah thought Jacqueline's attitude reminded her too much of Heather Chandler from Buchanan High. Jacqueline was almost a dead ringer for that New Zealand actress all of the guys had the hots for these days. She couldn't remember the actresses' name off the top of her head, but she did know it was a three-word name, and she thought there was a Greek letter in it. Jacqueline planned to win this particular competition, and she wanted to make sure she threw it in Sarah's face when she did. Her mark sounded simple enough. He was a 40-something male from New York who had moved to Alabama to work with a major aerospace company. He had created a design for a more efficient jet engine, and a few countries would be more than interested in getting their hands on him and his design. Jacqueline's assignment would be to get the mark to her hotel room, where the CIA would tranquilize him and bring him in. Jacqueline felt the hip-hugging red dress that showed off ample cleavage and a sultry southern accent would be enough to get the mark twisted around her finger. It almost worked. She conveniently forgot the part in the dossier where the mark started taking anti-anxiety pills several years ago. Apparently, he hadn't taken the pills in a few weeks, because he pulled a gun on her in the elevator on the way up. Jacqueline was quite fortunate he pulled the gun only one floor before the elevator opened up to two waiting CIA agents. She was given a low score.

Sarah's mark was more complicated. He was a fresh-out-of-school computer science major who was alleged to have created several powerful computer viruses while still in high school. The CIA was hoping to convince him to switch sides and work for the good guys for a change. The mark had been out of work since doing freelance programming to prevent the Y2K issue from becoming a major issue.

Sarah read the dossier carefully. Although she had a silver evening dress that would wow any male on the planet, she opted for a business suit, a tight skirt that could show off her legs if she sat a certain way, and a white blouse that could be unbuttoned surreptitiously if she thought it would come to that. The _piece de resistance_ was twofold: she tied her hair up with two long needles to make it look like her attractiveness would increase tenfold if she pulled them out and let her hair down. She also wore a pair of academic-style glasses that sat low enough on her nose where she could lock her sapphire eyes on the mark. The entire outfit spelled businesslike with sensual flashes whenever she wanted to use them.

She noticed the Tom Clancy novel in his hands as she walked up to him at the bar. She also knew about this hobby from the dossier. She spent the prior night going over the synopses of several Clancy novels and scanned through the three movies that came out. The mark asked her what her favorite book was, and she was prepared with what he thought would be the right answer. She also commented how she liked Harrison Ford as Jack Ryan, but Alec Baldwin's portrayal more accurately represented the Jack Ryan in the books. A sensual laugh and a few bats of her eyelashes later, she asked him about other book recommendations, and he was happy to give her several. She commented about a bookstore being two miles away, and perhaps they could start their evening there. He was only too eager to follow her. She gave him a few flashes of thigh and let him stare at her ass, mainly because she felt a little sorry for what was about to happen to him. She led him to a taxi and let him enter first. She never got in herself, as the CIA-owned taxi spirited him away to a communications facility across the river.

When she got back to the hotel where the students were staying, Arthur gave her a hug. He won the bet.

* * *

_No, I don't have the guts to have Sarah fail at Seduction School. Rather appropriate, though, she would succeed with her brains instead of her body, wouldn't you say? Part IV, the finale of "Sarah vs. the Crimson," will be posted very soon, and it will cover a topic most of us would rather forget if given the choice. But unfortunately, the times and circumstances don't allow it._


	10. Chuck vs the Alma Mater Part IV

_This is the final part to "Sarah vs. the Crimson." There is a section in it I was hesitant to write. But given the timeframe and the persons involved, a discussion about 9/11 really couldn't be avoided. After all, Sarah was about to join an organization that was under scrutiny concerning the events of that terrible day. _

_I'm going to take a day or two off from writing, then get back in with "vs. the Truth." Got a good idea for that one. I'm stumped right now on "vs. the Hard Salami," "vs. the Nemesis," and "vs. the Crown Vic," but I do have an interesting one for "vs. the Undercover Lover."_

_As always, please leave feedback._

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_**CHUCK VS. THE ALMA MATER – SARAH VS. THE CRIMSON, PART IV**_

_**Leverett House  
**__**September 6, 2001  
**__**9:30 PM**_

The training classes got less and less crowded each semester. Sarah wouldn't mind that so much, except one or two of the people she became friends with were leaving as well. Arthur told Sarah he was going to propose to Laneisha, and that he didn't want to work out in the field for the CIA. Fortunately, his prowess in political science made him a prime candidate to become a situational analyst. It had all of the thrills of being an agent without the annoying side effects, like torture and death. They moved him to an office in New York, and he transferred to St. John's University while Laneisha continued working towards her law degree. Unfortunately, her studies meant Sarah didn't see the two of them much after that.

Fortunately, Trevor was still around. Thanks to him, Sarah had a good handle on her mathematics and statistics courses, so she really didn't have to bother him for tutoring anymore. However, he still needed some help in a world languages course that he needed to graduate, so she was more than happy to assist. She also kept bringing dinner for them. Although she knew how to cook, having done so for herself and her father as a child, she wanted to hone her skills at school, and cooking was part of the CIA requisite skill set. Certainly Trevor didn't mind some home cooking, and Sarah always had a good time when she visited him. In a 3-year span that didn't include many high points, her time with Trevor was right at the top.

_**Science Center  
**__**September 11, 2001  
**__**7:00 PM**_

The 10 remaining students in the CIA training program sat in room B-217, still in the same fog of disbelief the entire campus…and the country…has been in for the last 9 to 10 hours.

Dr. Torres was coming to talk with them and discuss what happened today. Dr. Len Mendelsohn, the advisor for the male students, was not here, and his charges were visibly shaken. Dr. Mendelsohn's wife, who was an accomplished author and was flying to Los Angeles to begin a signing tour of her latest book, was one of the passengers aboard American Airlines Flight 11, which they now knew was flown into the North Tower of the World Trade Center.

In B-217, like many other places around campus, some of the students were crying quietly, others were already talking about revenge, but many were still in a state of shock. Sarah's 11AM class was cancelled, as were all classes that day and the next day, while students gathered around TV sets in the common areas or in shared residences, to get any information they could and make sense of the horrible tragedies that occurred in New York, Washington, D.C. and Pennsylvania.

Sarah sat there, trying to process everything that happened today. She didn't know anybody directly connected to today's events. Like almost everybody else, she couldn't figure out how or why it happened. She was at a loss to comprehend who would do this, even though information was starting to slowly trickle in regarding the hijackers involved. There were a lot of conspiracy theories already being floated around, which made her sick to no end. For the most part, she saw the pictures of the smoldering towers, the damage to the Pentagon, and she wondered what the next step was.

Dr. Torres entered the room, her energy completely gone. She had the appearance of a woman who knew she had to do this, but would rather be doing just about anything else. She had met Sylvia Mendelsohn once or twice, and Len was a good friend. She was feeling hurt for them, but she knew she had to be a strong voice to the students in front of her, even the men whom she did not interact with on a regular basis. These students were about to be thrown into a maelstrom of danger as field agents, and she needed to assure them their goals are no different than they were early that morning.

She sat down cautiously at the chair in the front of the room. She turned to the room quietly. Maybe this needed to wait until another day, but Dr. Torres didn't think any other day would make talking to the students easier.

"The world changed today. You weren't ready for it, and neither was I. Unfortunately, it is something all of us must deal with, just as the families out there in New York and D.C. and Pennsylvania are dealing with it now. Just as Dr. Mendelsohn is dealing with it now. I want all of you who have Dr. Mendelsohn as an advisor to feel free to talk to me if you have questions or problems. I imagine all of you have both right now. I wish I could sit here and say I could give you good answers, but I'm not sure if I have any right now.

"It will take time for all of us to assimilate the events of today. Unfortunately, there are many instances in this job where you won't be given the luxury of time. The people, the politicians, they'll analyze this from all angles, and I'm certain the CIA will come under fire for what happened today. The question everybody wants to know is, "How could we let this happen?" Truthfully, I want that answer as much as any person in this country.

"The best you can do once you begin your full-time work is to do your job as best as you can. If you make mistakes, you must learn from them, just like we will learn from what happened today. But this job involves a lot of politics as well. Sometimes, they'll demand answers you can't give them unless you break the rules a bit, and the politicians shudder at that thought. Sometimes the job will leave you hogtied, and sometimes it will leave you on an island, abandoned. It will leave you hating yourself, and it will leave you wondering if anything in life is worth it. But if all of you can get this country back as close as you can to how it was yesterday, before everything changed, then you did something important for your brothers and sisters in this country."

Dr. Torres slowly scans the room. All eyes are fixed on her. She hoped some of what she said today registered with the students, although she could certainly understand if it didn't. She had to admit her heart just wasn't in this.

"Is there anything anybody wants to say? Any questions? Comments?"

Patrick O'Brien, a Sherman tank with red hair from South Boston, raised his hand. Sarah didn't interact with him much, since he was still as shy as she was in high school. He seemed decent enough, though.

"Will we be part of any sort of retribution or revenge as agents?"

"That's a good question. I can't give any solid answers. However, I would guess the climate in this country would dictate we exert payback quickly and harshly. That would fall more to the military. I don't know what the CIA would be assigned to do at this point, but they may be involved. However, there is a political aspect to contend with as well, depending on whether people in positions of power decide to handcuff us to our offices or turn us loose."

Jane Corvin raised her hand next. She was a friend of Jacqueline Marsh, and therefore she hated Sarah, especially since Sarah bested her friend at Seduction School.

"How different will things be for us out there?"

"If I had to go by experience, every time we had some type of terrorist incident in this country, such as the Olympic bombing in '96 or Oklahoma City or the Towers in 1993, the directive always seemed to come down that the gloves come off. In a way, it's easier to do your work when you don't have to play by the rules as closely. However, it also means you run the risk of getting burned if things go wrong. The blame will always fall to you. They went through something like that in the late 70's, but the CIA survived it."

Sarah raised her hand next. "Do you think we'll be ready, given what happened today?"

Dr. Torres took a long look at Sarah. She was ready to answer Sarah when a thought occurred. Why would Sarah, of all people, ask that question? Was Sarah still unsure of herself? Although she couldn't fully dismiss that possibility, Sarah had to know she was probably the most ready to become an agent of anybody in that room. She was the last person that needed reassurance about being ready.

Unless…Sarah asked that question so Dr. Torres could convince everybody they were ready. Dr. Torres thought everybody was, but it would be so much more poignant if it was an answer to a student's question. Sarah gave her the opening on purpose. She had to smile at her star pupil. Sarah didn't remind Dr. Torres of herself when she was that age. Sarah was infinitely ahead of her.

Dr. Torres looked at each person in the class with a confident smile on her face. "Well, there will be 140 or so other agents joining the CIA at the same time all of you will. If those people are as eminently qualified and intelligent as the people I see in front of me, we'll be in good hands."

For perhaps the only time that week, a slight smile broke across the faces of the students in that room. It would be a difficult period of time, but they felt more confident in themselves having talked to Dr. Torres.

_**Leverett House  
**__**June 3, 2002  
**__**7:30 PM**_

Sarah was never more excited in her entire life. She would graduate in two days. From there, it was 6 months of prep work at Langley before her first assignment. Of the 35 people that started with her, 7 made it to this day. Some of them she was sorry to see go, like Arthur and Jonathan, and a few others she could care less about. She had been packing her wardrobe, which had grown to three times the size of the wardrobe she moved here, and she was placing it in boxes to be shipped to her new CIA apartment in Virginia. There was one last person she wanted to visit.

She knocked on Trevor's door with thoughts of a wonderful evening in her head. She wanted to take him out to dinner at a fancy restaurant. Maybe they would hit a nightclub where almost certainly everybody would be going crazy about the end of the semester. Who knows where that would lead, but the thought of it gave her a nervous energy she never felt before. She wondered where it had been all of her life.

The door opens, and Trevor greets her.

"Sarah, hi. How are you doing? I didn't expect you to come around tonight."

"Oh, I just thought I would stop by and show my appreciation for all of the help…"

Sarah stops dead in her tracks at what she sees inside of Trevor's room. More accurately, whom she sees. Trevor looks back and had a chided expression on his face for not making introductions.

"Oh, Sarah, this is my girlfriend, Mary. Mary, this is Sarah. She's the one who got me through the literature and language courses with which I had all that trouble."

Mary extends a hand. "Hi, it is so nice to meet you. Trevor has said so many nice things about you."

Sarah quickly covers the shock. "It's very nice to meet you as well. Actually, he was a tremendous help to me with some of my mathematics and science courses, so it was my pleasure to help him out."

It would have made Sarah feel better if the two of them felt the same tension she did. But Trevor was oblivious and Mary seemed too sweet to be jealous or feel threatened by Sarah studying with Trevor. Sarah was ready to fall apart.

"We were heading out to celebrate. Mary came up to watch me graduate. Did you want to join us?" Trevor was clearly too nice to realize the uncomfortable situation Sarah was in.

"Oh, you two need to get out and have fun. You haven't seen each other in a while, I would guess. Besides, I'm supposed to meet up with some people, and we're hitting the bars tonight. I just wanted to say thank you for all of your help. Have a wonderful night and congratulations!" Sarah had become quite adept at lying.

"You too. Take care!" Trevor's last words were never heard by Sarah as she slowly walked out, waited until she was a fair number of steps away from his door, and then she sprinted back to her residence.

She reached her own place and slammed the door as she went inside. She slumped on the floor and started crying. She felt like she had been betrayed once again. She was betrayed by her father, the kids in high school, her first date, some of her classmates, and the events of 9/11.

The last person she ever expected to betray her was herself. She fell in love with Trevor and didn't do a thing about it.

She thought about it for a long time while sitting on the floor in her residence. She started meeting with him more often as time went by. The two of them had shared so many wonderful conversations together. She realized she had started dressing a little nicer as time went on when they were to meet. Their method of goodbye evolved from a handshake to a hug, and then a hug and kiss. But she never asked him even once about his family, his friends, or if he was with anybody. She was afraid he would ask the same questions of her, and she didn't want to answer them out of shame. It was obvious as she sat there that she wanted to be with him, and she never made a move. Maybe she never had a shot; perhaps he had been seeing Mary the whole time. Maybe Trevor thought Sarah wouldn't be interested in him. But none of that made her feel any better about breaking her own rule about falling in love.

_**2002 Commencement Exercises  
**__**June 5, 2002  
**__**12:30 PM**_

Sarah was grateful there was so much to do before she left for Virginia. She was able to focus on a myriad of other things instead of seeing Trevor with his girlfriend two nights ago. She didn't really want to attend commencement ceremonies, but she knew she needed to be here for this. It gave her a final chapter on all of her hard work over the last four years. She earned the right to be here, and it was a much better feeling than what she was trying to suppress for the last two days.

She watched the other graduates hugging their parents, siblings, and fellow graduates. Of the people with whom she had gone through CIA training, she only spotted Patrick O'Brien in the crowd. Of course, he's hard to miss with his size. She would have gone up to him, but he was surrounded by doting family, and he only could muster a congratulatory wave towards her. There was one person, however, Sarah was determined to seek out before leaving.

She found Dr. Torres near the stage. Dr. Torres looked as proud as any parent in the crowd when she saw Sarah. Sarah ran up to her, and the two women hugged each other tightly.

"I'm so proud of you, Sarah!" Dr. Torres beamed.

There were tears in Sarah's eyes. "Thank you for everything, Dr. Torres. I wouldn't have gotten through any of this without you."

Dr. Torres hugged Sarah even tighter. "Ah, there you go again. Not giving yourself enough credit. You're going to do a wonderful job. Nobody could have done better than you did."

Dr. Torres holds Sarah at arm's length and studies her. "Are you OK?"

"I'm fine." Long before ever setting foot in Cambridge, Sarah was very skilled in hiding what she was feeling from most people. Dr. Torres was not most people.

"Trevor?" Dr. Torres sees right though Sarah's well-built walls.

Sarah stares at her in shock for a second before remembering who her advisor was. Nothing gets by the CIA, does it?

Sarah's voice catches in her throat. "It's…it's just…"

Dr. Torres pulls Sarah to her again. "Honey, you fell in love. That makes you every other person in this world. Every one of us has to learn about love the hard way. There isn't a single book or program out there that can explain it for you or stop you from doing it. It happened to me, and there's a wonderful man and two amazing daughters that I love dearly out there that have to wonder why it happened to them. Don't kick yourself, sweetie. I know you're going to be one of the best out there for the CIA. As for the rest, you'll know what to do when the time comes. I have faith in you."

"Thank you, Dr. Torres."

"You stay safe out there, Sarah."

Sarah walked across the quad and returned her cap and gown. She had packed her new car this morning. She had purchased a late-model Ford Mustang two months ago. She had a bit of a difficult time trying to buy one. She certainly would have preferred a new car. But the used car dealerships asked fewer questions, especially to someone paying cash. A few cc's of charm on Sarah's part, and the papers were signed.

As she pulled away, heading for I-90, she stopped and took one last look at the campus. She thought of everything that happened, both good and bad, for the last four years. There were people she was going to miss, like Jonathan, Arthur and Laneisha, Trevor, and Dr. Torres. She didn't think much about the fact she had earned degrees in psychology and economics, with minors in history and languages as well. She had some of the highest scores ever in the CIA courses. She had plenty of regrets, perhaps more in her mind than in reality. Her first date was a disaster, she got upset with herself too often without cause, and she let her emotions get the better of her at times. She was not certain where she would be six months or a year or ten years from now. But there would be a future for her, and it was a future she earned and would control. For the first time in her life, she felt like she had a purpose. It was time to put it to use.

She took Mt. Auburn Street, connected with Watertown Street, got on I-90, and hit the accelerator.


	11. Chuck vs the Truth

_Now of course we are all glad that Chuck was able to save Ellie from being poisoned and helped to capture Reardon Paine. But admit it: you thought Truthful Ellie was pretty funny, didn't you? It's OK, we all did. Let's give her a few more minutes…and a few more targets…to evoke some of her unvarnished observations about the Chuck universe._

_As always, please leave feedback. Face it, you need something to do tonight. Just hit the review link. You'll feel so much better._

**_

* * *

_**

CHUCK VS. THE TRUTH - THE WISDOM OF ELEANOR FAYE BARTOWSKI

Devon and Ellie are doing their best to cohabitate in the bedroom. Awesome has some reading to do regarding new procedures. However, the topic of the night is going on in the next bedroom. He can't believe it took Chuck this long to want to have sex with that gorgeous Wienerlicious babe who seems to be absolutely smitten for him. Looking at Ellie, he can't understand why she is nervously fidgeting with her hair.

"You think Chuck's gonna seal the deal with Sarah tonight?"

Ellie has a look of disgust. "Gross! You're talking about my brother."

"Hey, he's got your genes, babe." Devon purrs his voice low in that way that drives Ellie wild. "And I ought to know that the Bartowskis are very passionate people."

She turns to him with a sexy gleam in her eye. "You remember the last time we stayed at your parents' house? I found them bouncing around in the Jacuzzi."

That stops Devon short in a heartbeat. "Whoah. Brain stamp."

The sexy gleam is replaced by a look of anger. "Shoe doesn't feel so great when it's on the other foot, does it." She pushes him back to his side of the bed.

Devon could tell she was upset, but he wasn't ready for how upset she was. She looks towards the floor, and something down there disgusts her. She angrily hops out of bed.

"And, and do you know what? What's up, what's up with the porno shorts, huh? I mean CLEARLY Mrs. Heditsian likes to enjoy all the hills and valleys. But really, REALLY, they leave, like, nothing to the imagination!"

Devon stares at her wondering what was going on. He wasn't even sure what he did to incur her wrath. He did know to proceed slowly and carefully.

"OK, babe. Your, uh, your mood tonight is super honest. And I think that's awesome."

It was not the right thing to say. She shakes her head in disbelief. "And then there's that. 'Awesome.' Everything is so freaking awesome! Let me tell you something. If everything is awesome and there is no un-awesome, then awesome by definition is just mediocre!"

Devon gets more and more nervous as Ellie's rant grows worse.

"And you know what? When's the last time you did something nice for me? You know, just bought me something for no reason because it's Monday?

"Calm down, babe." Devon's voice grows in volume and concern.

Ellie points towards Chuck's bedroom. "You know, THAT'S what I want! The way the two of them look at each other all the time. They are so in love! They make Romeo and Juliet look like brother and sister!"

"Come on, babe. Get back in bed."

"I want to know how they do it! I'm going to ask them!"

"What? Babe, whoah! They're a little busy right now!"

Ellie bounds out of the room. She enters Chuck's room without even knocking.

"I have known him since the day he was born…obviously. When people would ask him what he wanted to be when he grew up, he would always say the same thing: 'a big boy'. How cute is that?"

Chuck was already having enough problems this evening with his beautiful guardian next to him in bed wearing sexy lingerie and unable to do anything about it, and the chances of dating Lou were quickly flying out the window. Ellie bursting in the room did not improve things one bit.

"Ellie, you're killing me here."

Ellie turns to Sarah. "And now he IS a big boy. And I tell that he is because he is with a big…" Ellie's eyes drift down to Sarah's breasts, barely contained in her lingerie. "…big, big girl."

Ellie takes in Sarah's attire. "Sarah, you are really putting in the effort here." Ellie's voice lowers conspiratorially. "Trust me, you're not Mrs. Robinson trying to seduce Benjamin. 4 and a half years. That's how long it's been since he had sex. I mean, he'd be happy with a Motel 6 at this point and you're letting him stay in Caesar's Palace? He loves you. You win. Don't go for broke on the first night, you gotta pace yourself."

Chuck and Sarah look at each other, shocked. Devon bursts in.

"Sorry guys. Don't mean to muck up your mojo." Devon lowers his voice behind the oblivious Ellie. "I tried to stop her."

"Is she drunk?" Chuck is looking at his sister, who hasn't acted this weird since her graduation from medical school. Ellie continues to stare at Chuck.

"Chuck, you need a haircut. It's starting to make funny animal shapes."

"Let's go, babe," Devon tries to pull Ellie away from Chuck and Sarah. "These two need their privacy." Ellie won't budge.

"When you were 7, I told you that the burglar stole the money from your piggy bank. That was a lie; it was me. At the time, I felt it was very important for me to have a _New Kids _fanny pack."

"Ellie, are you OK? Have you done anything out of the ordinary?" Sarah asks.

Ellie thinks really hard about the question, moving her lips as if she was concentrating. "Words taste like peaches."

Devon finally pulls her off the bed. "OK! We're gonna go now, let you kids get back to what you were doing. Have fun, all right?" Devon takes her out of Chuck's bedroom and sits her down on the couch. The doorbell rings. Devon finds Morgan waiting behind it.

"Awesome, so sorry to bother you. I gotta see Chuck and borrow a Herder. I got a little emergency with Jeff and Lester."

Behind him, Jeff and Lester, still in their Buy More Nerd Herd attire but much disheveled, stagger up to the door.

"Problem? Those weenies kicked us out of Bennigan's again," Jeff complained loudly.

Ellie turns to the door. "When did Gilligan get a beard? Oh, wait. Isn't he dead?"

"Oh, Ellie. You're up." Devon stops him.

"When I was 17, I knew you were looking in my window, so I always shut the blinds right before taking my bra and panties off, just to tease you."

Morgan had the classic "hand caught in the cookie jar" expression. Jeff begins to snicker behind him. Ellie notices him.

"Wow. Never seen Bozo before without his makeup and big red nose. Now I know why Chuck is scared of clowns. Wet his pants when we took him to the circus when he was 5."

"Hey, Morgan. Kind of a situation here," Devon tries to defuse the spiraling problem.

Chuck and Sarah emerge from the bedroom. Morgan notices what Sarah is wearing.

"Whoah, sorry! I REALLY interrupted something here."

Sarah angrily pulls her robe closed. If there was a chapter in the CIA manual to cover a situation like this, Sarah wanted to meet the person who wrote it…and shoot them.

"Wow, Morgan. Mind-cheating on the woman you had a crush on all your life with your best friend's girlfriend?" Lester gives Sarah a leering glance. "Can't say I blame you."

"You know, you don't have to cover up anymore, Lenny." Ellie sways back and forth on the couch looking at Lester. "It's 2007, this is California. Just come out of the closet. Being out is so in it's out. Find yourself a nice, cute guy. Quit living a lie like this."

"ANYWAY!" Chuck tries to regain control of the situation. "What are they doing here?"

"Dude, I gotta get them home. Can I borrow…"

Chuck quickly hands him the keys to his Nerd Herd car. "Yes, by all means, take it. Don't even bother to return it. In fact, don't bother to return tonight! Get them out of here!"

"You got it, you got it, bro. So sorry, man. You two were totally going Marvin Gaye tonight and we messed it up."

Morgan quickly exits, pulling Jeff and Lester with him. As they leave, Casey walks up in his pajamas, holding a container of milk with an antenna extended from it.

"Sorry to bother you folks. Could you spare some milk? I'm all out."

Devon is relieved to find someone normal at the door for once. "Moo juice! Coming up."

Chuck looks confused. "Casey, what are you doing here?"

"Getting some crosstalk."

"Why? What from?" Sarah asks, the alarm beginning to rise.

Casey begins to sweep the room with the milk carton. Ellie is barely keeping her head up. She looks up at Casey with a goofy grin on her face.

"Those pajamas make you look like Dennis the Menace's father. If you want, there's pair of shorts in the bedroom that you can have. I don't know, they might be a little tight."

She turns to Sarah and winks. "I hope!" The looks of disgust on Chuck's and Sarah's faces are quickly cut off as the signal gets stronger when Casey puts the carton near Ellie. She laughs, rolls her eyes, and passes out on the couch.


	12. Chuck vs the Imported Hard Salami

_Interestingly, nobody has covered the most significant event of Season 1 thus far in these challenges, which of course happened in "vs. the Imported Hard Salami." Sadly, I don't have the guts to do it. I know as much about romance as Glenn Beck and Keith Olbermann know about keeping their mouths shut. Or Jon and Kate know about keeping out of the spotlight. So I'm going to go with something that happened earlier in the episode, and put a few twists on it. _

* * *

**_CHUCK VS. THE IMPORTED HARD SALAMI - SHE'S JUST NOT THAT INTO YOU_**

After two months, cooking with the deep fryer had gotten a little less tedious and disgusting, but Sarah was still having problems with it. Or perhaps the last 48 hours have made a mess of things. To some extent, she couldn't blame Chuck for breaking up their "relationship." He had done so much so far for the country when most people would have cracked. To make matters worse, he still kept that same cute, sweet demeanor through all of it. Chuck had every right to be upset because Lou was interested in him, and Sarah had to play protector and deny him a potential shot at happiness. She was starting to curse herself for letting him get that close. She knew she had to get some distance back between them because she saw the same pattern emerging again. She fell for Bryce, and now she was starting to have feelings for Chuck. There was probably a Psych 101 theory to explain why she does this, but it would not make her feel any better at this point.

The timing was bad right now. Chuck flashed on Lou's ex-boyfriend: Stavros Demitrios. The well-connected family was bringing an item into Los Angeles, and judging by the sensitive nature of it, it could be a weapon of some kind. Unfortunately, for Chuck to get intel, he has to take Lou on a date to Stavros' club. Seeing him having coffee with Lou was tough enough on her. Having to run surveillance while Chuck goes on a date would test her mental resolve.

She hears the door chime. Lester walks into the Wienerlicious with a looking-to-cause-trouble strut to his step. _This I do not need right now_, she thought. Still, she knew she had to stay in character. He was relatively harmless, merely annoying.

"Hey, Larry. What can I get for you?" She intentionally got his name wrong, hoping the disinterest would dismay him from trying anything. No such luck.

"Lester. I, uh, wanted to say I was sorry to hear about you and Chuck. And if you needed someone to talk to, I'm here for you."

Most of the criminals that begged for their lives to be spared acted less pathetic than this. He was really trying to sell the "soft and sensitive" angle.

_Stay in character, Sarah. Stay in character._

She puts on a well-practiced smile. "That's very sweet. Thank you."

Unfortunately, he wasn't done. "Want to catch a movie? Grab a bite?"

With as much as she has seen as an agent, this was still very repulsive. "You're asking me out a day after I broke up with your friend?"

Lester chuckles and tries to make his voice sound sexy by whispering. "All's fair in love and war, Sarah."

It's all Sarah could do not to roll her eyes. If she wanted to, she could have him dragging himself out with only his pathetic little half-beard still attached. But that would involve reams of paperwork and explaining herself to Chuck, Casey, and the General. A "not interested" wouldn't dissuade Lester, either. Perhaps a little reverse psychology would do the trick.

"You know what you seem like to me?"

"Mmm?"

She puts down the tray she was holding and purposefully whips a towel at the window. She leaps up on the counter.

"A man who knows what he wants." She slides her legs off the counter on either side of where he's standing.

"Sure, you know, we could go through all the motions. Coffee, movie, dinner." She wraps her legs around him and pulls him close to her. Unfortunately, he doesn't seem to be backing off. She thought the leap onto the counter would do it.

It was time to turn up the heat a few notches. She locks her legs so he can't escape.

"Or…" she purrs. "We could skip all of that nonsense and I can just devour you right here." She pounds on the counter and bounces on it. "Mmm, this should hold us."

"I like the way you think. Let us dispense with the pleasantries."

_Oh shit_, she thought. _He should __have cracked by now and I should be done with this. _

What the hell happened? His profile indicated he was all show. Most of his coworkers thought he was gay. Instead, he's getting turned on. A bad week was getting much worse in a hurry.

"I certainly hope I don't cause…too much pain for you," Lester's attempt at sounding macho suddenly gave Sarah an idea.

"Hmmm, I think I know how we can make this even more exciting," she whispers in his ear, intentionally breathing deeper to heat her breath and give him goosebumps.

She removes herself from around him and executes a perfect backflip to return herself to behind the counter. She bends down, pretending to look for something under the cabinets while carefully sliding out her handcuffs. Suddenly, she spots an item on the bottom shelf behind an old horseradish jar. She pulls the item out. That would do the trick.

She rises and locks her eyes on Lester with a look of danger on her face. She dangles the handcuffs around her index finger.

"Pain, you say? Oh, I know I can handle it. The question is…" In her left hand, she takes the whip she found and cracks it to her left.

"…can you?"

He starts to stammer. "Um, that's, uh, an interesting thought. Let me think about that proposition. It certainly sounds…is that Jeff, uh, calling me? I'll be right there, Jeff! I'm just gonna…" He runs right out of the shop.

"What about that movie?" Sarah can't resist putting the final nail in Lester's coffin.

She breathes a sigh of relief. She starts to return to cleaning up the counter when a horrifying thought crosses her mind.

_Where the hell did this whip come from?!?_

Only one other person ever worked at the Wienerlicious. The thought of Scooter using that whip on someone, or more likely having it used on him, suddenly made the 4 months of imprisonment in Iran 4 years ago seem like a summer vacation. She shakes the nasty image out of her head and pulls out her mobile phone.

"Sir, may I give a few suggestions about my cover job here in Burbank?"


	13. Chuck vs the Nemesis

_I have to admit struggling with ideas for this one. I do want to thank DLK for sending a few ideas my way. Finally, after re-watching the episode, I came up with an angle. Get your coffee and pastries ready. And while you're deciding between cherry, apple, or strawberry-cheese, make sure you leave a review. :-)_

* * *

**_CHUCK VS. THE NEMESIS - BIG MIKE'S LEAST-FAVORITE FRUIT_**

"OK, listen up! Three minutes before we let those animals in! If this was a zoo, I'd say run for your life. But this is Buy More. For those days where you did SQUAT, this is where you make up for it! Don't let me down. This is the single most important day of our year!"

Big Mike looks behind him at the locked door of the Buy More. The customers were already pressed up against the glass. One woman was pointing at the lock, and he couldn't be sure she wasn't using her middle finger to do so. He had been through a dozen of these Black Fridays before, but for some reason, he was apprehensive about this one. People were desperate for bargains, since most kids still didn't get the concept of not being able to afford Christmas gifts. That was the one good thing about being the boss: he didn't have to face the crowds. He took a look at Anna, Jeff, Lester, Morgan, and Chuck. Jeff and Lester were completely useless, but nobody figures customer service would be in vogue today anyway. Anna would be helpful, and Morgan tends to take this workday far more seriously than any other day of the year. Fortunately, Chuck was around and could keep a level head. He knew where he was going.

He turns back to his employees. "And my door is locked! Don't even think about knocking!"

He retreats to his office, thankful he had some improvements done on the store. His office used to just be a wall in the back. He converted the old office they had for stereo installation to make it his own. There was only one reason to move to a smaller location: the door. With a lock on it. He installed that himself because he knew he would need it. Harry Tang may have been worse than getting a daily colonoscopy, but at least he scared most of the green shirts into working. Corporate hadn't given him authority to replace him yet, which meant more work.

Today, however, the Nerd Herd crew would pitch in. With Chuck helping out, it meant he could relax with his favorite Danish. He puts his feet up and puts on some music. A little 70's R&B will do the trick. Marvin Gaye will never let you down.

"_What's going on?" We're makin' money, Marvin, that's what's going on. Mmmm, wish you were still around making albums._

He was up to his 40th song when the phone rang. The front registers were down. Dammit, bad day for that. He dials an extension.

"Morgan, registers are down. I need Jeff up there to fix them."

"I'm on it, Boss Man," was the reply. Big Mike had to give Morgan credit; he's stepping up today. He should have trained Chuck on how to fix those registers, since Jeff was so unreliable. Live and learn.

He gets up to get some coffee from the break room. He hears something indiscernible from Morgan. _Why is he using the bullhorn?_ The fire alarms go off. Suddenly the drone of hundreds of angry customers turns to screaming.

_No! Not today!_ "Grimes!" He drops his pastry and sprints to the floor.

He throws open the door, and chaos fills his vision. Customers are running for the exits, some dropping their merchandise, but some are taking what they have in their hands with him. It's a sales nightmare. He executes a perfect leap over the counter and tries to block the main aisle.

"IT'S A MISTAKE! NO! THE STORE'S NOT ON FIRE! AAAAAGGGHHH!!!"

The throngs of panicked customers pull him out of the store.

He looks at the store, watching the merchandise leave without anybody paying for it. Hundreds of customers who would not return for the rest of the day. He was already dreading the huge fine the Fire Department would slap on him for the false alarm as the trucks pulled up. He spots Morgan. The bearded little troll is so fired for this.

"GRIMES! You just ruined the most important shopping day of the year! For what? FOR WHAT! Do you know what you are, Grimes!"

Someone taps Big Mike on the shoulder. "What?" He turns around surprised. It was an L.A. County firefighter.

"There was a gas leak in the store."

Big Mike is surprised. "Gas?"

"Yes, sir. And whoever evacuated it probably saved a lot of people. It'll take a few hours for us to clean this stuff up, so we'd appreciate it if you kept everybody out of here until we give you the say-so."

He turns back to Morgan, who is making a show of polishing his nametag.

"Is this straight? Does it look good?"

Big Mike walks away, completely livid. Corporate won't care that they just avoided a load of ridiculous lawsuits. They'll just see the thousands of dollars the insurance company will have to pay out for this and blame him.

He stalks to his car. The hell with it. The day is ruined. Might as well go for broke. He heads for the lake. The fish are biting.


	14. Chuck vs the Crown Vic

_A big thanks to DLK for giving me the inspiration for this story about Casey and his Crown Vic. I took one of his/her ideas and combined it with my own. It's a short story, but hopefully you'll like it. As always, feedback is not just that annoying sound that occurs when you put a microphone in front of a speaker._

_The next story might take a little time, because it is a two-parter and a crossover story. It'll be a pretty funny story. And I'm just rambling on now because I have to have all of these chapters be over 1,000 words for some reason. Must be an ego thing._

* * *

**_CHUCK VS. THE CROWN VIC - THE VIC NEVER LETS YOU DOWN_**

Casey walked slowly around the store. Unlike the other green shirts, he didn't avoid work. Most customers were annoying as hell. But a quick answer, which he always had, was all he needed to send them on their way. This day, he was in a fog. As it happens, nobody could tell the difference between him and the other employees, although their haze was alcohol-induced from the holiday party.

He loved that Crown Vic. It started out innocently enough. He purchased it when the Army was sending their fleet of older vehicles out to be auctioned. He bought it with some of the money he had saved up. He hung onto it for years. It didn't rack up the miles as quickly as the average car, as it had to stay in storage several times while he served overseas. He was meticulous in its maintenance and keeping it clean. Really, he never thought much about it at first. But then they had that moment in New York…

He was assigned to locate a terror cell allegedly based in Brooklyn. He managed to kill two of the terrorists in their apartment, but the other two tried to run. Clearly they did not want to be killed by a gung-ho NSA agent before they had an opportunity to carry out a terrorist act. It was a chase that would make Popeye Doyle proud. The terrorists ended up as two projectiles through an abandoned building.

Ever since that day, the Vic never let Casey down. Not when locating a federal witness in Orlando or tracking down a cache of weapons entering over the Canadian border. She was built for power, speed, and endurance. Casey always took care of the Vic, and it always took care of him.

He had to admit a preference for Steve McQueen movies, or any film with a good car chase or gunplay. Besides _The French Connection_, he loved _Bullitt_, _Serpico_, and the car chase through Chicago in _The Blues Brothers_. Of course, his love of guns meant he watched every Dirty Harry movie at least twice, except for the crappy last one with the list.

He tried to replay the car chase from _Ronin _in his head, but it only made him feel worse. His baby was gone. She wasn't a young girl anymore, but she was always loyal to him. The fact that she died in the line of duty was of little comfort to him.

From across the store, he sees Chuck approaching. Unfortunately, there were too many witnesses, and he'd have to explain to Beckman why the Intersect's neck was snapped and his fingerprints were all over it.

"Casey, hi. Uh, I was wondering…if I could talk to you?"

Well, he could always wipe off the fingerprints. "You sure you want to talk to me right now? I know 14 different ways of…"

"Casey, trust me. This is important," Chuck is almost pleading. Casey's low growl can be heard across the store. Fortunately, everybody is too hung over to give it pause.

Chuck and Casey walk to the back parking lot near the Nerd Herd cars. Casey notices Sarah there. Next to her is what looks like a car barely holding itself together. The doors are of different colors, and the back fender appears loose on the right side. Other than that, the car is serviceable. What gives Casey the impetus for standing in his tracks, however, was the type of car. A 1985 Ford Crown Victoria.

"We are really sorry about what happened to your car. I mean, it did save our lives," Chuck said.

"I got the guys at the Agency to priority this one," Sarah added as she handed Casey the keys. "They found the parts and rebuilt the engine. I couldn't get the paint job done in time, but give them a couple of days. Would you prefer black or midnight blue?"

Casey takes a look at the two of them. It was such a rare event when anybody thanked him for what his work, and he never actively sought recognition. In fact, his bosses often had to enforce vacation days on him. But looking at the two of them, the mistakes made on the job with Lon Kirk were minor in the grand scheme of things. Chuck had the right idea but the wrong boat. And Sarah was still young; emotional detachment is a skill that takes years to perfect. Chuck's nervous, helpful nature probably doesn't make that easier, given her past with Bryce.

He popped open the hood. Sure enough, a 4.6 liter V-8 engine with Hydroglide transmission smiled back at him like a long-lost sweetheart. He would have to reupholster the prisoner containment area, but that would be a nice project for his off-hours. The smooth purr of its engine was already playing in his head.

He had to admit, he's had far worse partners and far nastier assignments than this one. Sometimes, you ran into good people in this world.


	15. Chuck vs the Undercover Lover Part I

_Pasha Lychnikoff played Victor Federov is this particular episode of Chuck. It was a fun episode, as we all remember, especially the fight scene. ("How do you like me now, sucka!") Recently, he popped up on an episode of the TNT series "Leverage." For those of you who don't know, it is a show about a former insurance investigator who leads a team of cons that help out those who get taken by the rich and powerful. Sort of an Ocean's 11 meets The A-Team motif. (good show, I recommend it) That got me thinking of trying a crossover story._

_I'll combine the two stories, "Chuck vs. the Undercover Lover" and Leverage's "The Ice Man Job," into a single story to see what happens._

* * *

**_CHUCK VS. THE UNDERCOVER LOVER - THE FEDERAL AID JOB, PART I_**

"John, I need your help."

The shock of seeing Ilsa Trinchina alive had faded. Something new took precedence in Casey's mind. She was about to marry Victor Federov, head of one of the most powerful crime families in Russia. Even putting his feelings aside for the woman he thought he loved, the entire affair was a lie. She was a member of the French Secret Service.

"What makes you think I won't ship you, Victor, and his entire party off to the detention center of my choice?"

Ilsa regards him for a moment. There was only one thing she could rely on from John Casey.

"It would not be professional."

She could see him seethe under the surface, but his shields of discipline and professionalism seemed to be holding.

"Victor is well connected in Russia, but the well has been running dry of late. We think he's going to try and make a big score to infuse some much-needed capital into his organization. A quick-strike, high-risk hit. Our intel thinks it might be a cache of diamonds being transported to a jeweler in Beverly Hills."

"And if you catch him in the act…"

"His business associates will get nervous that he would try something like that and suddenly disappear. He'd be finished."

Casey gave the matter some thought. Federov's organization was airtight as far as this side of the pond was concerned. But he had enough experience overseas to know how dirty he was. This might be a good opportunity.

"What do you have in mind?

"I might be able to convince him to use a couple of locals to infiltrate the jewelry store for him, that way he has deniability if things go wrong. Can you provide a couple of local people?"

"Perhaps. Get someone to hack the security cameras, a couple of people to hit the vault and get the diamonds."

"And once he gets the diamonds and makes the payoff to the 'hired help,' we have him."

"And if he decides to drop dime and tries to eliminate us…" Casey gets a look in his eye that indicates he wouldn't mind Federov attempting that. "…we have him."

* * *

"I know, I know. Stay in the van. Since I have an actual assignment tonight, is there really a chance of me not doing that?"

Chuck had to lament yet another rebuke from Sarah and Casey about following instructions. Granted, he had gotten himself in trouble once or twice by not doing that. But since he was their eyes and hacker with the computer security systems once they walked into the store, he would be providing valuable assistance.

"OK, Chuck. Have you hacked into the security system?" Sarah is far more diplomatic towards him when it came to missions.

"You're all set."

Sarah and Casey approach the main door. The outer door is easily picked, but the inner door requires a 10-digit alphanumeric code. Sarah hooks up a small wireless device to the port in the keypad. Chuck begins to download the code information from the keypad.

"The code is 1-2-7-Alpha-Gamma-Oscar-6-3-Whiskey-9."

"Thank you." Casey punches in the code to open the inner doors. The guard at the desk doesn't react right away, giving Sarah plenty of time to fire a tranquilizer dart at him. The guard slumps at his desk.

"Nice work so far." Chuck keeps an eye on the feeds from the lipstick cameras Casey and Sarah are wearing. They approach the vault, where Casey attaches a device to obtain the combination for the lock. Sarah attaches a lead to the secondary electronic keypad similar to the one she used on the outer doors. Chuck relays the color sequence code to her. Casey obtains the combination to the tumblers and dials it. Once he is ready, Sarah punches in the color code. They turn the wheel and open the safe.

Sarah readies the harness while Casey aims inside the vault, shooting two pitons at opposite walls, stringing high-tensile rope above the pressure-sensitive floor. He attaches the ropes to Sarah's harness, and he pulls. Sarah is drawn into the vault 6 feet above the floor. She swings to the far wall, using a suction cup to keep her against it. She picks the lock on box 72, where the diamonds are. She opens the door and stares inside.

The box is empty.

"What's going on? Did Ilsa get the wrong jewelry store?" Sarah is growing suspicious.

"Not likely," Casey said with a very audible growl.

Outside, Chuck is getting interference in the system. "Wait, something's going on. I'm getting some chatter on a different frequency."

Chuck switches frequencies and picks up some faint talk.

"Hardison, did you fix the issue with the security cameras?"

"I'm working on it, Nate. Someone's playing out there. Damn! No little Wesley Crusher wannabe is going to mess with the Jedi Master here."

Chuck loses the camera feeds from Sarah and Casey. "Guys, there's a problem. I think this vault has been robbed."

"You figure that out all by yourself, genius?" Casey couldn't believe Chuck would say something that stupid.

"No, I mean they must be on the grounds right now." He checks the security cameras. "Sarah, how the hell did you get on the roof so fast?"

"I'm still in the vault," Sarah looks very confused.

"Uh, then I think we have at least one of the…holy crap!"

"What?"

"Whoever was on the roof just jumped off!"

Casey quickly pulls Sarah off the harness. "Let's go."

Sarah and Casey bolt out of the store and run around to the back of the building. Casey runs right into the fist of a stocky man wearing all black clothing His head snaps back but he recovers to throw a punch of his own. The two men trade punches while Sarah tackles a lithe blonde attempting to run in the other direction. She quickly handcuffs her to the fence and returns to help Casey.

Casey is trading punches with the man in the black hat and clothing. Sarah comes from behind and lands a kick to the man's face. He staggers back but does not fall. However, it is enough time for Casey to pull out his gun.

"Federal agents! Don't move!" Sarah pulls out her gun as well.

Chuck comes running around the corner.

"What did we tell you about the van?" Sarah is upset, but it is more fueled by what has happened instead of Chuck leaving the van.

"I know who they are. Their leader is someone named Nathan Ford. I flashed on his name. He's a former insurance investigator who was rumored to be leading a team of criminals pulling a series of cons across the country. They were formed when an executive for an aerospace company in Chicago wanted them to retrieve what he told them were plans a rival company stole from him. The executive in question wasn't trying to get the plans back; he was trying to steal them."

"You mean, they had the same idea to steal the diamonds? They're running some sort of con?"

"The blonde over there is a master thief. And apparently doesn't have issues with death-defying leaps. Given the bruises on Casey's face, I assume this guy with the hair is their enforcer or bodyguard, Eliot. And it must have been their computer expert, Alec Hardison, who was messing with our links to the store's computers. He's pretty good."

"Well, it's time to introduce them to prison. Or should I say reintroduce them to prison." Casey was staring hard at the man he just fought.

"Perhaps if you knew why we were doing this, we could help each other. It would be especially good since we don't have the diamonds, either. We were set up."

Everyone turns towards the voice. A middle-aged man walks down the alley towards the 5 people. Chuck stares at him.

"Sarah, Casey, I think this is Nathan Ford. Perhaps we should hear him out first. Otherwise, we may never get the diamonds."


	16. Chuck vs the Undercover Lover Part II

_And here is Part II of my ChuckMeMondays entry for "Chuck vs. the Undercover Lover." Hope you like the Chuck/Leverage crossover story. I'm trying to keep up as best as I can, but I'm also writing "Chuck vs. the 42-Year-Old Virgin" at the same time. I must say this is the first computer I ever owned where I really feel I got my money's worth. _

_Please enjoy the story and leave lots of feedback._

* * *

**_CHUCK VS. THE UNDERCOVER LOVER - THE FEDERAL AID JOB, PART II_**

A middle-aged man walks down the alley towards the 5 people. Chuck stares at him.

"Sarah, Casey, I think this is Nathan Ford. Perhaps we should hear him out first. Otherwise, we may never get the diamonds."

"Your tech man is correct. However, we are not the problem. The owner of this jewelry store is the problem. Jim Kerrity is trying to make a big score off of the insurance of the $20 million in diamonds that were supposed to be in that vault tonight. He stole the diamonds himself and is trying to pin the blame on all of us."

"Doesn't sound like a Robin and the Hoods story to me," Casey says, his anger bubbling under the surface.

"Well, it's a two-part job." A lanky man falls in behind Ford. Chuck assumed this was Hardison.

"They pulled a job on an armored car two weeks ago. They got about $2 million and change off that job. See, it's like an _Ocean's Twelve_ thing."

Everybody gives Hardison an odd look. "What, you didn't see that? George Clooney, Brad Pitt, that smokin' hot Catherine Zeta-Jones?" Hardison can't believe it. "Nobody saw the second movie?"

Eliot gives him a cold stare. "Unlike you, they were too busy getting laid."

"Oh, that is…that is wrong. First I get hacked by some Buy More jockey and now…?" Hardison calms himself. "OK. Kerrity sets up the smaller job to get some crooks to work with him. Federov hires a few goons to knock over the armored car. They use the money they can get from the unmarked diamonds in that job to fund the bigger score of $20 million. Only these diamonds have laser-encoded serial numbers on them, which can only be wiped off by a few people on the planet. They'll use the money to hire them."

Nathan continues. "Our client is the driver of the armored car. He took the job between shifts as an LAPD officer. The first thing that Kerrity did was accuse him of the theft, and he's been suspended from the force with a load of medical bills piling up. That buys Kerrity some time before he and Federov steal the marked diamonds. They split the proceeds from that, and Kerrity pockets the insurance check from the thefts."

Sarah considers what Ford has told them. It is far from a perfect plan. But time is working against them, and they have no bargaining chips against Federov.

"If we can convince Federov that Kerrity is going to turn on him, he might make a desperation move and get himself caught."

"OK, Miss…"

"Walker. Agent Sarah Walker."

"Agent Walker. What did you have in mind?"

"What if Kerrity could be convinced that there is someone already in town that can remove the serial numbers? Someone based overseas who is trying to drum up business here in the U.S.? We gain Kerrity's confidence, he leads us to where the diamonds are being kept, and we make sure it gets back to Federov that Kerrity is going to do this without him."

Nathan studies her for a moment. "That might work. But we need someone he wouldn't suspect. And unfortunately, we're down a member of our team right now. However, if you'd like to volunteer…"

"Why me?"

"Kerrity's in the mess he's in because of his high-profile lifestyle. Parties, fancy cars, trips to the Riviera, that sort of thing. Always trying to impress some young lady by taking her out on the town. He's in 7-figure debt now. Someone like you might be able to put him on the hook. And Parker might be able to loan you something that will help you reel him in. Then it's just a matter of selling him on who you know."

Sarah turns toward the diminutive blonde. "What do you have?"

* * *

"The Rosalind Diamond?"

Casey cannot believe how out of control this situation has become. Not only was the sole love affair in his life a lie, a Russian mobster was about to get away with millions of dollars in diamonds, and the only way to prevent it was to trust a group of criminals.

In a hotel near the jewelry store, Chuck, Sarah, and Casey are gathered with the group of 4 cons, hashing out the details of the plan.

"I stole it in Perth some time back. It should be more than enough to impress him."

Casey tries to interject some sense of order to the situation. "I'll go with Walker, pretend to be a bodyguard."

"No, wait," Nathan interrupts. "No offense, Agent Casey, but you don't exactly blend in well in this situation. You have that IRS Man of the Year look to you. Eliot will go as her backup. Meanwhile, Hardison and Parker will set up the vault, while you and your computer geek…"

"It's more nerd, actually." Chuck sinks back into silence, sorry that he spoke up.

Nathan gives him an odd look. "You and your man get back and keep eyes on Federov. If this works, he'll probably move fast to stop Kerrity, and then you can nab him."

Sarah comes out of the bathroom in a body-hugging, low-cut midnight blue minidress. The four-inch heels made quite the impression on everybody. Parker walks up behind her and unclasps the necklace with the Rosalind Diamond on it. She puts it around Sarah's neck. It sparkles brilliantly in the valley between her breasts.

"Man, I have never been jealous of a pressurized rock before." Hardison looks up and down approvingly at Sarah.

"Keep it in your pants, Urkel," Casey growls at him. "She could slit your throat with her fingernail."

"Are…are we sure this is the best way to do this?" Chuck was growing concerned about Sarah being the bait in this scenario.

"Hey, she's got good training," replied Eliot. "And I got her back."

* * *

Sarah spots Kerrity at the end of the bar. She slowly saunters up to him. The information Nathan Ford provided was dead-on accurate. Kerrity was ignoring every part of Sarah except for the diamond. She walks up and motions for the bartender to give her a drink. Eliot quietly enters the bar and sits down at the opposite end.

"That's, uh, quite a pendant you have there," Kerrity has yet to look at Sarah's face.

"The Rosalind Diamond," Sarah replies.

"Quite a well-made replica."

Sarah keeps her voice low and sultry. "I have a little confession to make: it's the real one."

Kerrity's head jerks upward, and he looks into Sarah's eyes for the first time. "Can't be."

"I know some good people. They solve problems in this business."

"What kind of problems?"

"They make merchandise a bit lighter for their owners. Alleviate some of the paperwork, make the red tape disappear." She holds his gaze a moment.

"Hmm, and what could they do for me?"

"What is it you need?"

"A little assistance in making some diamonds easier to move. Take away some of the background information, as it were."

"Well, one of our services does involve something like that. But we're supposed to be leaving for New York in the morning. Tell me more. Perhaps it will be worth it to delay our flight."

"Not here. I'll have to bring you back to my office."

Sarah glances behind her. Eliot hears the entire conversation over his earpiece. Pretending to look at a person next to him, he gives a nod.

"That is acceptable, but please don't be wasting my time. We don't deal in small-time operations."

"Oh, I assure you. This will be worth your while."

Sarah and Kerrity exit the bar and head for Kerrity's limousine. A minute later, Eliot exits the bar and gets into a car with Parker.

"OK, we have him on the hook. Hardison, are you set?"

Behind the jewelry store, Hardison is tapped into the security cameras of the store.

"I'm all over it."

* * *

"Stupid IRS poster boy bullshit. I've been infiltrating corporations and motorcycle gangs and even terror cells in Pakistan while some of them were still crappin' in their diapers."

Casey is beside himself and he and Chuck drive towards the hotel where Ilsa and Federov are 30 minutes away from their wedding.

"Hey, Case," Chuck tries his best to be supportive. "You do a lot of things for this country already. Maybe, maybe con artist is just not in your skill set. I know it isn't in mine."

Casey guffaws. "Yeah, yours is limited to being a computer and annoying the hell out of me. I wasn't even looking to marry Ilsa. It was just…something that happened 4 years ago. She was the most beautiful woman I had ever seen."

He is silent a moment, part of his mind regaling the past he had with her. It was one of the rare times in his life where he thought of himself beyond the choices he made. But he couldn't live in that moment anymore, since it was all a lie.

Casey pulls out the locket he gave Ilsa. "And this. Just a cheap little trinket that I used to think meant something." He throws it against the windshield. It breaks apart, and a small disc rolls out of it towards Chuck. He looks at the disc and has a flash. Casey notices the telltale signs.

"What?"

"This is an RX77 long-range audio transmitter. A Russian-made bug."

"You mean, Victor knows she's a spy?"

"He knows what we had in mind."

Casey floors the car. They start speeding towards the hotel. Rushing into the lobby, they look around. They do not see Ilsa or Federov, but dozens of people are walking outside towards the pool, dressed for the ceremony.

"You check upstairs, and I'll look around the lobby and the pool," Casey orders.

"Got it." Chuck rushes for the elevator. He pulls out his phone and quickly dials Sarah.

* * *

Sarah picks up her phone and notices Chuck's picture and ID.

"Could you hold the car for a moment? I have to tell my associates that we may have reason to stay. Just need a little privacy, I'm sure you understand."

"Certainly."

The limousine pulls over. 60 feet back, Eliot and Parker pull into a parking spot to remain undetected. Sarah walks out of eavesdropping range of the limousine and answers the phone.

"Sarah! It's Chuck. Federov knows about Ilsa. He knows she's a spy. He probably knows about our plans."

"Where's Casey?"

"We're at the hotel now. We're trying to find her."

"No, Chuck. You have to get out of there. Chuck?" The call is cut off as Chuck enters the elevator.

"Dammit. We have to abort this."

"Walker, wait. You walk on Kerrity, he'll get suspicious and call Federov. Then he'll know about all of us. You have to play this out and nab Kerrity."

"Chuck is my priority on this mission. He's an important witness."

"We'll go to the hotel. Just get Kerrity in the vault with the diamonds. That's all you have to do. Hardison will prep the vault for you."

Sarah sees their car turn in the opposite direction, heading for the hotel. She turns back to the limousine, acting as if nothing is wrong.

"Good news. They're delaying the flight. Now…" Sarah slides next to Kerrity, pretending to absent-mindedly play with the diamond to hold Kerrity's attention. "How far is it to your office?"

* * *

Chuck exits the elevator and quietly moves down the hall, making a quick call as he does so. He gets to Ilsa's room and attempts to quietly test the door to see if it will open. It flies open, and he is grabbed by two very large men in tuxedos. They tie him to a chair. Two other large men are in the room. Victor Federov is also there.

"Well, you must be the young spy who's still learning. Not to worry. We'll teach you a few lessons tonight. It's too bad you're going to miss the wedding. That Ilsa, lovely girl. I'm very lucky. But, I'm afraid we have a few problems."

"What? Do you really think you'll get those $20 million in diamonds now? You're businesses in Russia won't be able to survive."

Federov looks at him oddly. "That is…how you say?...no skin off my nose? I'm not interested in those businesses. They're already bankrupt. I have all the money in accounts in Central America as we speak. And including the money I make with the armored car job, all of it should make for a very generous retirement gift. Of course, I don't want to disappoint all my associates. They deserve one last party. By this time next week, all of them will be in jail or dead. But to make it work, I need someone to go on my honeymoon with Ilsa. Perhaps you'll fit the bill. Such a shame the plane won't make it all the way to Fiji. It's so tragic, lovely place."

Chuck looks at him in surprise.

* * *

Sarah and Kerrity arrive at the jewelry store. He unlocks the door and enters the code for the door.

"After you, gorgeous," he gestures that Sarah should enter. They walk to his office. Sarah sits down at the desk, showing some leg to keep him off-balance.

"So, what sort of diamonds do you have?"

Kerrity pulls several diamonds from a box inside of his desk. "These have a laser-inscribed serial number on each. That would have to be wiped off so we can move them." He hands one to Sarah.

She slowly rises, her hips making a statement as she leans on his desk. "Well, I think we can assist you with this."

Kerrity leans forward towards her, entranced. "And how much do you charge for your services?" He runs his finger along her thigh. She places a judo chop between his shoulder blades, knocking him out.

"A lot more than an arm and a leg." Sarah quickly retrieves the box from Kerrity's desk.

"Hardison? I'm ready to go."

"Damn girl, you are good. OK, we need to get him and the diamonds in the vault. I can disable the cameras and the sound sensors, but I can't rig the floor or the anti-theft fog to not go off. Not in our time frame. Here's what you need to do. Once you get the door open, you have to pull him in with you. The diamonds have to be put in box 72, which is to your right in the vault. As soon as you touch floor, the alarms will go off and the door will lock behind you. You'll have ten seconds before the fog completely blinds you. You must get the diamonds in and then enter box 83 straight ahead of you."

"Got it."

"Oh, and uh, one more thing. Take off your shoes."

Sarah has a confused look, but she takes off her heels. She goes to the vault and dials the combination they got from the previous night. She opens the vault door. Pulling Kerrity's unconscious body with her, she gets to the edge of the vault. She grabs Kerrity's arm with one hand and holds the box and her shoes in the other. She counts to three in her mind. On three, she runs in, pulling Kerrity into the vault beyond the door. The alarms go off, and the door begins to close. Two vents begin pumping a thick fog into the room. She quickly opens box 72 and places the diamonds in it. She runs for box 83, which is large enough to hold at least one, maybe even two adults. She closes the door inside, clutching her heels.

"Hardison, why did I…" The floor gives underneath her and she falls. She lands on the floor in the basement underneath the store.

"I didn't catch that," Hardison answers. Sarah looks around. Glancing up at the ceiling, she notices the remnants of detonating cord around the hole that got her out of the vault.

"Never mind. Pull the van around. We have to get to the hotel."

* * *

Parker and Eliot arrive at the hotel.

"What room were they in, Parker?" Eliot and Parker make a beeline for the elevators.

"I don't know. Let's find the honeymoon suite."

They exit the elevators and run down the hall. Parker stops and finds the stairwell. She enters it as Eliot finds the correct door. He kicks the door in to find Chuck tied to the chair, and four Russian bodyguards surrounding him.

"Aren't you taking this whole arranged marriage thing a bit too far?"

Two of the guards go at Eliot, who sends an elbow flying at each. Chuck tries to get up to move away from the others. A punch by Eliot sends one guard at Chuck, who falls backwards. The chair breaks in the process. The other two guards go after Eliot as Chuck tries to get up. Eliot brings his knee up into a guard's groin, who goes down. He executes a spinning back kick at the other. That guard is sent into Chuck, who stumbles backwards towards the balcony. He falls over the railing. Two arms come around him as they fall. Chuck lets out a girlish scream as the two people plummet towards the ground. Suddenly, they stop 5 feet before hitting the concrete. Chuck finally opens his eyes and sees the blonde hair of the person with her arms around him.

"Sarah! How did you do that?" Both drop to the ground, and Chuck notices it is not Sarah.

"Oh, Parker. God, I'm sorry. I got my blondes mixed up. But that was amazing!"

"Parker, did you get him?" Chuck and Sarah can hear Eliot's voice over their earpiece.

"Yeah, we're good. What about you? Those four goons?"

"They're borscht."

"Wait, the wedding." Chuck realizes that Ilsa is still in trouble.

"Oh, I got that," Hardison gloats from the van as he pulls up with Sarah. "If I were her, a headache would be a good career move right now. Federov is about to receive a case of performance anxiety."

Eliot sneaks by the audio equipment and hooks up his mobile phone to the system. Federov walks up to the makeshift altar by the pool. Casey spots him and is ready to put a serious objection to the wedding across his face.

"It is…how you say…no skin off my nose?" Federov's voice comes out over the sound system. The guests are surprised. Chuck smiles.

"Age of the geek, baby." The tape continues to play

"I'm not interested in those businesses. They're already bankrupt. I have all the money in accounts in Central America as we speak. And including the money I make with the armored car job, all of it should make for a very generous retirement gift. Of course, I don't want to disappoint all my associates. They deserve one last party. By this time next week, all of them will be in jail or dead.

Suddenly, two dozen guns are aimed at Federov's head. Ilsa has a triumphant grin on her face.

"Darling, the wedding is off."

* * *

The crew is gathered in the ballroom at the hotel following the abrupt cancellation of the wedding. Federov begged and pleaded to be placed under arrest. Kerrity was caught in his own vault with the diamonds from both jobs, which he had claimed to be stolen, and the armored car driver accused of the theft was informed by his superiors he can return to work once he has healed.

"Thank you for helping us when you had no reason to do so." Nathan shakes Casey's hand.

"Everything worked out. We have Federov, and your client has been cleared."

"Oh, and I'm sorry about the IRS remark earlier. If it's any consolation, half the cons I pull don't allow me to stretch very far with my imagination either. My Boston accent needs some work."

Casey gives an approving look as he spots Ilsa walking in with her suitcase. He goes to her.

"Well, I'm sorry for causing so much trouble for you," Ilsa says softly, her deep brown eyes twinkling at her former lover. "But believe me, I wish things were different back then. You made me think about what I did for a living and if there might be something better."

"So, it's off to another part of the world?"

"I'm afraid so. Hopefully, it won't be so long before I see you again."

She slides her hands around his neck and kisses him, wanting this moment to last a little longer.

"Bye-bye, Sugar Bear." She gives him one last kiss and departs the hotel. Behind Casey, Chuck slowly walks up.

"Off on another assignment?"

"That's how the job goes. Maybe we'll see each other again. But she has her mission, and I have mine."

"Well, if it's any consolation, you'll always have me."

Casey emits a disgusted growl and starts to walk away. Chuck follows and puts his arm around him.

"You know, Casey, I think this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship."

Casey shoves him away, and Chuck lands on the ground.

"Or perhaps not."


	17. Chuck vs the Marlin

_A nice short one for Chuck vs. the Marlin. I was originally going to write a story from the marlin's perspective, but I thought maybe you were getting tired of the odd-angle stories. Just wanted to catch up to the rest of the folks following along on ChuckMeMondays. I'm splitting time between these and "vs. the 42-Year-Old Virgin." I'm going to try and update both this week. (Actually, Chapter 3 was put up on Sunday. Hope you liked it. Leave some feedback if you can. Thanks!_

* * *

Nothing is as it seems.

If there was one thing going through Chuck's mind as he watches Ellie accept Awesome's proposal for marriage and contemplates the last year, that sentence seemed to be repeating itself.

He received an email from the man who ruined his life. He thought it was a birthday email. He wondered how in the hell Bryce could have the nerve to wish him a Happy Birthday after getting him kicked out of Stanford for something Chuck didn't do and steal Jill from him.

But nothing is as it seems.

He meets an incredibly gorgeous woman who wanted to get to know him. She wanted to go out on a date with him. She thought he was handsome and funny.

But nothing is as it seems.

A man with a severe haircut and an attitude to match was after him. He tried to run him over with a car, and he put a gun to Chuck's head. Chuck never thought he would live another day.

But nothing is as it seems.

He thought the Intersect would be taken out of his head. He thought that he was of no use to anybody. He thought he couldn't handle himself when danger was on the line. He thought he would spend the rest of his life being a lowly Nerd Herd employee.

But nothing is as it seems.

He thought Bryce was dead. He thought that Bryce had betrayed him. He thought Professor Fleming wanted him out of school.

But nothing is as it seems.

He thought he was developing feelings for the woman assigned to protect him. He also thought she felt the same way. He thought things were different after that passionate kiss they shared in Stavros' warehouse.

But nothing is as it seems.

As he stood there watching, he felt Sarah come up behind him. She encouraged him to go congratulate the newly-engaged couple. He asked her to join him, but she felt it should have been just for family. She had told him they could be friends.

But perhaps nothing will be as it seems.


	18. Chuck vs the First Date

_Ah, we remember that first real date Chuck and Sarah had. Like most first dates, it doesn't go the way it was planned. Of course, the rest of us would not have to deal with a restaurant full of killers and a Crown Victoria coming through the window, but we all have our horror stories, right?_

_Feel free to review._

* * *

_**CHUCK VS. THE FIRST DATE - THE PERFECT FIRST DATE (ALMOST)**_

_**FIRST DAY OF THE REST OF YOUR LIFE  
**__**TASK LIST**_

1. Buy new lock for bathroom.  
2. Buy bottle of strong alcohol to forget reason for needing #1.  
3. Work on toning down girlish screams.  
4. Turn down Big Mike when he offers to make you Assistant Manager.  
5. Research finishing my degree.  
6. Ask Sarah out on date before she is reassigned. Remember "killer" line.

_This day did not start out well, although obviously now I know what Ellie sees in Awesome. I intend to make today much better before it is over. I have to admit, Sarah's inspirational speech last night has me motivated. Of course, what she doesn't realize, at least not yet, is that doing "whatever I want" will include a date with her before she is sent off on some other assignment. I've let too many things pass me by in life. It's time to correct that._

_I've got the perfect line for her. The one that she won't be able to turn down. I've been practicing it for days. I'm going over there right now._

_Wait. The Orange Orange? A yogurt shop? When did that happen? Well, I do like the new uniform on her. Apparently, she didn't think she was hot enough in the Wienerlicious outfit. OK, take it slow. Keep looking in her eyes. Tough to do, but you can handle it. She won't say yes if you're looking down at the ground. Take it slow; don't pull out the killer line yet._

_OK, she's questioning going on a real date. Fair enough. She's probably dated movie stars and slept with handsome princes, but you can do this. She's still smiling, she's interested. You two have a rapport you developed over the last year. Just focus._

_She's hiding behind the job. Yeah, a hundred reasons. But you had a hundred reasons to leave before now and you didn't. OK, you were expecting hesitation from her. You actually needed it, because you have the killer line._

"What have you got to lose? In a week, you're going to be undercover in some place like…Jakarta…in a knife fight with some evildoer. And in that exact moment, you're going to wish you had spent one last night of fun with me."

_Not bad, Chuck. Could have been better. She's not laughing, you didn't make a fool of yourself, that's good. Damn, I could look in those eyes for the rest of my life. She's mulling it over…_

"OK, Chuck."

_Nicely done, Chuck. This is going to be great. You know the perfect first-date restaurant, courtesy of Morgan. This will be phenomenal._

"Tonight? Our first date."

"Or our second first date."

_OK, she is skeptical about a Morgan recommendation. She still doesn't get the gestalt of Morgan Grimes. He's an acquired taste, I will admit. But the food really is good here. She would look great in a baggy sweatshirt and dirty jeans, but that dress on her is absolutely wonderful._

"He also never found it remotely unbelievable that a guy like me could be dating…uh…you know."

"What?"

"Um, you know…you."

"What about me?"

_Whoah, that I didn't expect. She's actually going to make me say it? Doesn't she know how beautiful and smart and cool she is? Come on, she must. She's well out of my league. Hell, she's out of the whole planet's league. She can't actually be fishing for compliments. No way. She HAS to know how incredible she is. I certainly do._

"You're really going to make me say it, aren't you. Wow, OK. Fine. All right, we'll play it your way. A girl like you. Or more appropriately, a woman like you, considering the fact that you can probably kick the ass of everyone in this joint. And a smart one at that. Not to mention cool, and…extremely beautiful…and, and you can stop me anytime with the compliments if they're becoming uncomfortable for you."

_OK, a little nervous, but you said everything right._

"No, that was very sweet."

"Sweet. Golly gee, thanks for making me feel like I'm 8." _Idiot, you shouldn't have said that. You knew what she meant. Don't go for the sarcasm._

"Well, you're not so bad yourself."

_OK, sidestepped that landmine. Give her a little laugh_. "Please, I'm fantastic."

"Yeah, you are."

_Wow. She said that, and she was serious. No laugh, no annoyed look. She meant it. Doesn't she know who she is? This amazing person who saves the world for a living? And she thinks I'M fantastic?_

_OK, just roll with this. Relax._

"Chuck, a CIA officer doesn't get to choose."

"You know, I still have an awful lot of secrets still in my head. Lindbergh baby, the formula for New Coke…"

"What are you saying, Chuck?"

_She's moving closer, take it slow, this is it. This is what you wanted…_

"What I've always wanted to say, Sarah…"

_Slowly, she's closing her eyes, she's starting to tilt her head. This is it…"_

"No, no no no no, not now!"


	19. Chuck vs the Seduction

_OK, last chapter I was in Chuck's head for "vs. the First Date." Time to be a little daring and get into Sarah's head for "vs. the Seduction." I thought it was funny the response got to a comment I made on the YouTube clip of the two kissing in front of Roan. _**_"That should tell you how good the kiss is. Half the people in these comments want to be in Zachary's shoes right now; the other half want to be in Yvonne's."_**_ It got a lot of positive feedback. Apparently, Zachary makes the ladies heat up as much as Yvonne makes the men that way._

_Please leave feedback. I update faster when you do. (hint, hint)_

* * *

**_CHUCK VS. THE SEDUCTION - SHE DOES WANT YOU TO KISS HER_**

"Assume your partner is the mark. How would you seduce her?"

_OK, Chuck. Just answer the question honestly. He's been a little off today. I can't really blame him. He was supposed to be done with all of this by now. The Intersect was supposed to be out, and I really wanted another shot at that "one last night of fun" he insisted I have before my next assignment. He had such a weird grin on his face when I came into the Buy More earlier. How did he even know I was going to kiss him? I probably let it go a little longer than I should have. Then he was ready to bolt out of Castle. I didn't even think about how I said that earlier. "You can have whatever life you choose with whomever you choose". Come on, Walker. You know that someone isn't you. Like he said, you'll be in a knife fight in Jakarta before you know it. You can't do that to him, traipsing around the world and he has no clue where you are or what you're doing. He has to be able to live his own life and not worry about whether you'll come home. He deserves a normal life, and you can't give that to him._

"That's an excellent question. I'd probably start with the uh, bedroom eyes. You know, the ol' Bartowski Eyebrow Dance. Then I'd come in at you like this. Start coming in at you. Then I'd start firing the guns. 'Hey baby, how's it…'"

_God, I'll miss that about him. Nobody ever made me laugh like that._

"Don't encourage him. This isn't happy hour at Chili's. This is Sasha Banacheck."

"I don't know. I'd would probably…I'd be myself. I'd try to make her laugh. Try to find a common cultural interest. Music!"

"Be yourself. You think a woman like…this…could ever fall for a guy like you?"

_Clearly you don't know Chuck, Roan. You haven't seen what he has done to protect this country. He got thrown into this situation, and he performed as good as most agents would. Hell, we found you out cold under your bed, and you're criticizing Chuck?_

"I don't know. Barring any national security emergency, I'd think I'd have a shot."

"Be reasonable. This is a gorgeous, sophisticated woman, and you're…"

"Passionate and sweet and caring." _Someone has to stand up for him._

"Really? 'Tall, dark, and caring?' What a combo!"

"I didn't mean it like that. He has a lot to offer."

_Why is Roan making this so damn difficult? He's the one who insisted on using Chuck, and now he's insulting him at every turn? Chuck, stop taking this crap from him! I know what you're capable of._

"Fine, let me see this caged passion. Kiss him."

"Excuse me?" _How the hell did that happen?_

"I don't think that's necessary...at this particular juncture…Roan. I'm solid as a rock in that department."

"What's the matter? Don't you find Agent Walker attractive?"

_Ouch, awkward moment. I don't suppose it would help if I said I find you incredibly handsome with those sweet brown eyes of yours that make me lose my concentration every time. Those sensuous lips that lit a fire under me I hadn't felt in so long. _

_Sarah, stop that. You're a CIA agent. This isn't helping either of you. This is a mission. Don't look at him; let him answer freely without you judging him._

"Of course I find Agent Walker attractive. It's just that I had a burrito earlier, and I'm trying to be respectful."

_Good answer. And funny. He can always do that._

"While I admire your chivalry, if you can't kiss her now, what makes you think you going to be able to kiss Sasha Banacheck when the entire mission is on the line?"

_Damn. Roan is right. I had to practice this for a long time. Chuck needs to do that as well. Kissing me would make this easier on him later. And I have to admit it wouldn't exactly be torture if he did._

"Chuck, it's OK."

"Really?"

"Yes."

_Of course it's OK, Chuck. Remember, we almost kissed a few nights ago on our date before you flashed? We were going to have dinner at your house before the Intersect computer blew up and killed my boss? I still want that date! I still want that kiss!_

_Keep your cool, Sarah. But what the hell was that? Sweet is not what we need right now. Come on, Chuck! You know you can do better than that! Don't you remember the warehouse? _

"Perhaps I've moved too fast. Have you had sexual intercourse before?"

_What the hell! Why did I ever find this guy even remotely attractive? Chuck has never had to do this before, Roan! Cut the guy some slack!_

"You know what? You're crazy! This is crazy! I don't have to take lessons from you!"

"Perhaps I've picked the wrong agent. Maybe I can get Agent Casey to kiss her."

_Not Casey. Chuck, please! Not Casey!_

"YOU REALLY WANT ME TO KISS HER?!"

"Desperately."

"Fine!"

_What the…oh my God. This is even better than the warehouse. Thank God he's hanging on to me, my knees are getting weak right now. Practice, Sarah, this is just practice! He's an asset! This is a mission! Stop! _

_Thank God, he broke the kiss, too. Two more seconds and I was ready to collapse. _

_OK, put your poker face on, and don't lock eyes. You know what looking into his eyes does to you. Pretend it was all an act._

"I, uh, better fix my lipstick. Excuse me."

_Is there enough time for a cold shower?_


	20. Chuck vs the Break Up

_I thought I would try something a little outside the box for "Chuck vs. the Breakup." Chuck could have used the following memo from the CIA, don't you think? As always, please leave feedback._

* * *

**DOCUMENT CONTROL #:** XT-475-334  
**VERSION:** 2.1  
**LAST UPDATE:** 14-OCT-09  
**DEPARTMENT:** EXTERNAL RECONNAISSANCE & INTELLIGENCE GATHERING  
**SUBGROUPING:** SOCIAL INTERACTION  
**STATUS: **CLASSIFIED

**SUBJECT:** HOW TO IMPRESS POTENTIAL GIRLFRIEND IN FRONT OF HER EX-BOYFRIEND

The following memo contains information the CIA advises field agents and ancillary personnel use regarding their behavior towards individuals with whom they desire a romantic relationship when a former partner of the target is currently maintaining or attempting to maintain a presence in her life.

**SECTION:** _ATTIRE (yours)_

_**Make attire as formal and high-quality as possible when meeting with target in presence of ex.**_

When wearing formal attire for a mission or any sort of rendezvous, be sure to choose upscale designs and high-quality materials. Your suits and/or tuxedos should be in keeping with the latest fashion trends and impeccably clean. Do not cheat by wearing clip-on ties or casual shoes. Your sleeves should contain actual cufflinks as opposed to buttons. Women are typically impressed when a man makes the extra effort to look presentable in front of them. It is also advisable to leave one article less than 100% perfect in appearance, such as a tie that is not fully tightened. This will give the woman the opportunity to "fix" a part of the attire of the man in question, thus establishing a connection and allowing her to share a part of your modus operandi for the evening. Women also consider it sexier when they undress you to slowly remove a tie from your person. This process is augmented greatly when greater dexterity is required of her.

_**ATTIRE-ROMANCE AXIOM:**_ A woman taking off her clothes is sexy. A woman taking off your clothes is sexier.

**SECTION:** _ATTIRE (hers)_

_**The correct amount of appreciation for her attire is essential.**_

While it is detrimental to not show enough appreciation when she is wearing formal and/or sensual attire, too much appreciation of it is equally detrimental. A cogent paradigm to this axiom can be found in sports, such as when a touchdown is scored in football or a home run is hit in baseball. Be impressed, but not excited. The phrase "act like you've been there before" is an appropriate rule-of-thumb in this case. You should appreciate the effort she put forth in her appearance, but not so much where you lose your own countenance in the process.

**SECTION:** _SOCIAL SITUATIONS_

_**Remain in character and remember that she is doing the same.**_

(Based on the Gere-Winger Rule of 1982)

During missions, it is ESSENTIAL that you focus on your requisite tasks. Regardless of how simple or trivial your role may seem in a mission, you play an essential part of the mission. To that end, you must not allow yourself to be distracted by anything that your potential target is doing during said mission. You must remember AT ALL TIMES that she, like you, is playing an essential role. Regardless of what you see between her and her ex, it is simply an act and has no relevance or meaning beyond the mission.

This rule was enacted based on intel received regarding a Gere, Richard and a Winger, Debra. The two individuals were singled out for their solid performances in the film _An Officer and a Gentleman_, despite displaying significantly hostile feelings toward each other during off-camera situations. Despite their differences, they were able to work synchronously during several emotional scenes of the film in question.

**SECTION:** _GIFT GIVING_

_**Make sure your gift-giving strategy is personal yet different from that of the ex.**_

While it is a noble gesture to buy gifts for the target as a show of affection or appreciation for any actions they did, it is important to study the gift-giving tactics of the ex as well as knowing the most effective gifts to give the target. Your gift should reflect your appreciation for the target while distinguishing itself as something above any efforts on the part of the ex. This will help retain your kind gesture in her mind.

**SECTION:** _INTERACTION WITH THE EX_

**_No one situation is right in all cases. Communicate openly with the target, not the ex._**

Espionage is a fluid endeavor. There are few universal truths. What may work for one couple won't necessarily work for another couple, no matter how similar the circumstances might be. Communicate openly with the target rather than assuming the ex knows what is right for your situation better than you. They are not the ones who must take responsibility for your actions. Know what is best for you and the target, and only you and the target.


	21. Chuck vs the Cougars

_Hello. Just thought I'd throw in a little trip down memory lane for our favorite black-suited NSA agent. Admittedly, I don't know what John Casey's actual age is, but I figured he's a high schooler of the 80's. Hope you like it. Feel free to leave plenty of comments._

* * *

**_CHUCK VS. THE COUGARS - DRIFTING BACK TO THE 80'S_**

_**St. Rita High School  
**__**September 17, 2005  
**__**8:15 PM**_

Casey wasn't sure how he ended up with such a quirk in his schedule that he would be in town for this. The work had been quite steady of late, and he anticipated being somewhere in Eastern Europe right now shaking down informants. But his bosses have been insisting on more down time lately. Their excuse was a new policy handed down by the head of the agency that requires field agents to actually use their vacation days. Letting them go wasted wasn't even an option anymore. But Casey knew that they were not happy he blew that op in Prague last month. He hoped one day to get another shot at that arrogant red-headed bitch. Next time, he'd get her naked and leave her stranded.

Perhaps going to his 20-year reunion wouldn't be so bad. He missed his tenth, but being in the thick of the action in Kosovo was certainly a valid excuse. He wondered if it would be like that _Grosse Pointe Blank_ movie, where everyone had swelled. Looking around the gymnasium, adorned in the school colors of red and silver, that point could certainly be argued about more than a few people. Thank God he was in good shape for a 38-year-old. He was simply older, that's all.

He hoped to meet a couple of his old teachers, especially Mrs. Crawley. She was a tough-as-nails mathematics teacher, but the benefit of experience made him realize that she was preparing the students for the harsh realities of life. Technically, the same could be said about Coach Daniels, who taught Phys. Ed. and coached wrestling, but somehow he managed to be more sadistic about it, happily torturing the "cheesedicks" as Casey and a few of his cohorts from the Glee Club were called. Casey wouldn't mind seeing him tonight. It is safe to say that he could intimidate the hell out of Daniels now.

_There they are._ They don't look any different.

One of the advantages of being an NSA agent was doing research on anybody you want. Casey already knew everything that has happened with his buddies in the last 20 years. The "Tone Deaf Trojans," as they mockingly called themselves, were far from it. The four of them, including Casey, won a few local singing competitions against other high schools back in the day. They were the objects of ridicule and scorn from certain members of the football team, but they had enough good times to survive. Jake McConnell, who swapped lead singing duties with Casey while the other was being the tenor, was a history professor at Ball State, and a very popular one. Roland Garrett was the baritone and the joker of the group. He finally got married three years ago after a couple of attempts, and he owned an upstart computer company in San Jose. Brian Van Brocklin was their bass, although his skinny frame would make you think he couldn't hit notes that low. Then again, you wouldn't expect him to be one of the most successful cadets who ever graduated West Point and was likely to take over the running of Fort Bragg within the next year. It was one of the few times politics were shoved aside for practicality in the upper echelons of the Army, but sometimes you do whatever it takes to keep such a talented individual in the fold.

Looking across the gym, Jake spots Casey first.

"Uh-oh! It's time to get on the CASE!"

The three run up to Casey, overjoyed to see him.

"Jake, Roller, BeeVee! Looking good!" Casey is shouting as well in a rare display of positive emotion for him. The four exchange hugs and handshakes.

"How the hell have you been, Case?" Roland still had that smile that made him the group's official ladies' man in the day. That may explain all the girlfriends over the years.

"Doing well. Lots of work trying to upgrade the national grid. You know how that goes. Get power companies to try and invest in the infrastructure while making sure their executives don't lose their fat golden parachutes."

"Ugh, I hear that," Brian replies.

"Who needs?" Casey asks the group. A chorus of "I'm good" and "No thanks" follow. Casey makes his way to the bar, a little annoyed that he would have to have his stogey outside. Perhaps he'd save that for later.

As he goes to the bartender to get a scotch, he catches a glimpse of Mrs. Crawley surrounded by a half-dozen students. Judging by the smiles on everyone's faces, they shared Casey's opinion of her that they were better off with her toughness back in the day. He'd come back later to say hi. By the edge of the bar, Coach Daniels appeared to be on his 5th or 6th drink. Casey slowly approaches him. Daniels looks up in an alcoholic haze, but he still recognizes one of the kids he not-so-affectionately referred to as a cheesedick.

"Wow, Casey. You certainly turned out OK. Damn, you look like you could kill for a living."

Even beyond the fact that Daniels got Casey's actual career right, Casey already felt like he got his payback from the fat bastard who tortured him for four years in high school.

"Good to see you too, Coach," was all Casey said. It was all he needed to say. That alone made the night worth the effort.

He heads back towards Jake, Roland, and Brian. A rather overweight man with a disheveled look was standing near them, and the three looked a bit uncomfortable.

_Oh, this should be fun._

Casey did his homework on Martin Blake as well. The quarterback of the football team who decided he liked shoving the four Glee Club members inside of lockers throughout the whole of their high school careers. His reward for doing all of this was to be working for a construction company that he could only get through his dad's political connections. Judging by the reactions of Jake, Roland, and Brian, it would appear that Martin thought he could still pull the same crap 20 years later.

Casey walks up behind Blake, who was clearly three sheets to the wind at this early hour.

"Blake."

Blake turns around, stumbling in place in the process. "Johnny Boy! How the hell are you, you little turd muffin!" Blake swings his arm, possibly to throw a punch or possibly just to clap Casey's shoulder. This was never answered as Casey's instincts took over, grabbing the wrist of the offending arm and twisting it. Blake falls to the ground. The look in Casey's eyes makes him crawl away across the gym floor, only attempting to get up again at least halfway across the court.

"Thanks, Case. He's still the biggest prick on the planet," Brian said.

"Not a problem, gentlemen."

"Case, Roland's got a 5 AM flight back to San Jose in the morning, so he has to cut out soon," Jake says. "What do you say to one quick song before he has to go?"

Casey hems and haws over the thought. It's been too many years. The job he had now really didn't mix well with four-part harmony. "I don't know, fellas. It's been too many years."

"Oh, come on. You know our song. It was geeky then, but we had it right. It's legendary now and you know we can kill at it."

Casey couldn't argue that. They could sing that song, and it was a Hall of Fame song.

"OK. Brian, you or me on the lead?"

"It's all yours, buddy."

Casey clears his throat a few times and hums his voice to the right octave.

_Oh when the sun beats down and burns the tar up on the roof_

_And your shoes get so hot you wish your tired feet were fireproof_

_Under the boardwalk, down by the seeeeeeeaaaaaaa, yeah_

_On a blanket with my baby, that's where I'll be_

The guys join in.

_(Under the boardwalk) Out of the sun_

_(Under the boardwalk) We'll be havin' some fun_

_(Under the boardwalk) People walkin' above_

_(Under the boardwalk) We'll be makin' love_

_Under the boardwalk, BOARDWALK!_

The people nearby applaud and shout for more. Casey was forced to smile. He never thought of what his job in the NSA meant. But if he could keep the planet running long enough for everyone's kids and grandkids to have their 20-year reunions, then he could certainly say it was worth the effort.


	22. Chuck vs Tom Sawyer

_Hi there, just adding my entry to the ChuckMeMondays Challenge for "Chuck vs. Tom Sawyer." For once, my company's Internet is not blocking this site, so I have to take advantage when I can at lunch. :-)_

_As always, please leave reviews. To quote Wooderson from **Dazed and Confused**, "It'd be a whole lot cooler if you did!"_

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**_MICROSOFT CORPORATION  
1 MICROSOFT WAY  
REDMOND, WA 98052_**

Warner Brothers Television and College Hill Pictures  
ATTN: Josh Schwartz and Chris Fedak  
Burbank, CA 91501

Dear Sirs:

The Microsoft Corporation wishes to lodge a formal protest regarding the NBC television show "Chuck," specifically the episode entitled "Chuck vs. Tom Sawyer," which aired on Monday, October 27, 2008. In the episode, a reference was made to the song "Tom Sawyer" by the Canadian classic rock group Rush, in which the main character, Chuck Bartowski (played by Zachary Levi), asks his best friend, Morgan Grimes (played by Joshua Gomez), if he has the aforementioned song at their store. Morgan claims that he has it on his Zune MP3 player, a Microsoft product. He then retracts that statement by saying it is on his iPod, a product of Apple Computers.

We resent the implication that the Microsoft Zune is an inferior product to the point where ridicule is made of it on a nationally-televised show. The Microsoft Zune is a state-of-the-art product that is able to play computer files that output music, sometimes referred to as MP3's, in a unit that the average person can take with them. Our latest version gives the ability to advance forward to the next song, go back to a prior song, and it will even play a list of songs in a random order. We are also very proud of the fact the latest version can now play video files as well.

Throughout its history, the Microsoft Corporation has continually been on the cutting edge of producing advanced, high-quality, efficient, and correctly-functioning products, such as Windows ME, Microsoft Bob, Microsoft FrontPage, ActiMates Interactive Barney, WebTV, and the Microsoft Watch. We invite you to do some research on these products, and you will see the Microsoft Corporation is committed to providing the technical consumer the best products on the market.

Our upcoming technologies include Microsoft Phone, which is a touch-based operating system for mobile phones that will feature all of the functions you can currently get from Apple's Apple OS, Palm's Web OS, and Google's Android system. And this week, we feature the release of Windows 7. We are so confident in Windows 7 revolutionizing the computing industry, we are already at work on its Service Pack 2 upgrade.

Sincerely,

William "Bill" Gates  
Chairman, CEO, and Head Honcho  
Microsoft Corporation

P.S. We also resent any implication that drew parallels between the show and my time at Microsoft during the 1980's. I was not a fan of Missile Command. My favorite game was Ms. Pac Man.


	23. Chuck vs the Ex

_I know, I know. I'm behind on the ChuckMeMondays Challenge. I must say, what I saw this week with "Chuck vs. the Sensei" was very impressive. I hope I can do as well. I do a lot of writing these days. Granted, a lot of that are synopses for IMDB, but still, you need a hobby, right? For this chapter, let's celebrate the Buy Morons passing the CPR exam in the way they know how._

_As always, could you leave a review? Seriously, you can tell me I suck. Tell me I'm the worst writer on the planet. I'd still have to be better than some of those writers for "Accidentally on Purpose," wouldn't I?_

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_**CHUCK VS. THE EX - $20 ON THE LANCE BASS FIGURINE**_

Chuck returned to the safety and normalcy of the Buy More. Of course, normal was a VERY loose term around this place. However, it certainly couldn't be worse than the week he had. His ex came back into town, he is almost killed by a manufactured virus, and he has nobody but himself to blame for trying to save Casey's life by kissing him. What happened to the good ol' days when he fell off of buildings or got shot by ex-friends who came back from the dead? What happened to the normal, everyday problems?

"JEFF! JEFF! JEFF! JEFF! JEFF! JEFF!"

_Oh, crap._ So much for safety or normalcy.

He was a little confused. They just did Mystery Crisper a few weeks ago, and nobody had dared challenge Morgan's supremacy at Fingers of Fury with the TV remotes. What was going on?

He cautiously works his way to the employee's break room. The shouting gets louder and louder. He opens the door, and he is completely indifferent.

Jeff was in the middle of the room with his eyes blindfolded and his mouth wide open. At one corner of the room, Skip Johnson holds what looks like a slingshot. To nobody's surprise, especially Chuck's, he is holding a wad of cash and doing his world-famous Michael Buffer imitation. Chuck spots Lester in the crowd.

"What in the hell is going on? You realize the store did not burn down or anything. We have waiting customers out there."

"Chuck, fearless leader," Lester replies with his usual shiftiness that would make the conmen of Diggstown proud. "We are celebrating our passage of the CPR test! Jeff bet us that he would not choke on anything we could shoot in his mouth. 20 bucks each, the person who gets Jeff to choke on something wins! If he survives, he gets the booty!"

Chuck rolls his eyes. As admiring as it could be that profit can be made in a bad economy, his sense of responsibility, infinitesimal yet infinitely greater than the majority of the downtrodden clave of this store, kicks in.

"You can't do that. It's dangerous! Jeff could choke to death."

"Hey, we have safety in mind. He's allowed to deny 2 objects and have them replaced."

"Lester, we really need to get back out to the store."

"Wait! Wait. My turn is next. I've got $20 on a superball I picked up from the grocery store gumball machines. It cost me 50 cents, so surely you can see the return on investment here."

Chuck shakes his head. If it wasn't for the fact he discovered Jill still had feelings for him, this week would have been a complete bust. He walks out of the room, completely disgusted.

But not disgusted enough. Casey walks down the hall.

"Hey, hey Bartowski! Keep your distance from me! I don't want you taking off my pants if I suddenly sneeze."

"Just leave me alone, will you? I've had a rough enough week as it is."

"Really? Robert's return not enough to increase the RAM in your computer? Your former fake girlfriend is over there lamenting you trying someone else's toppings right now."

"Oh, she is not. She knows what's going on. She's totally supportive."

Casey hears a shout from the breakroom. "What's going on in there?"

"Oh, they're celebrating passing the CPR exam by having a contest. Whoever can get Jeff to choke on something wins."

Normally repulsed by such things, Casey raises an eyebrow. "I have a shell casing from a 50-caliber rifle bullet that I got in Desert Storm. Think it would be enough?"

Chuck turns and quickly walks back to the store. His upcoming weekend with Jill can't come soon enough. Although he'd settle for death in a pinch.

"YES!!!!! I WIN" Lester's booming and sexually-confused voice echoes through the hallway, followed by the sounds of someone choking. Death looked better by the minute.


	24. Chuck vs the Fat Lady

_Every generation has some sort of pop culture altruism. For baby boomers, it was "Is it true Paul McCartney was in another group before Wings?" For Gen-Y, it's "I'm so old, I remember when MTV used to play music videos." For Gen-X, it was "I think this is that episode of Three's Company where there's some kind of misunderstanding." The joke obviously being that EVERY episode of Three's Company was about some kind of misunderstanding, with plenty of innuendo thrown in. Well, in honor of the "misunderstandings" between Chuck, Sarah, and Jill in "Chuck vs. the Fat Lady," I thought I'd write a pilot episode for Chuck with a few changes in it. I was even nice enough to let you know when you're supposed to laugh, kind of like the laugh track they used on the American version of "Coupling" or "Hank." (I didn't say it was an accurate laugh track.)_

_**

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**_

CHUCK VS. THE FAT LADY – CHUCK AND JOHNNY GET A NEW ROOMMATE

_THEME MUSIC  
__We're gonna knock down your door (gonna knock down your door)  
__And interrogate you (and interrogate you)  
__Where the torturin' is his and his and hers, Chuck Bartowski's Crew._

_We'll tango out on the floor (tango out on the floor)  
__Save a life or two (save a life or two)  
__He's gonna flash and dash, he's so rash, Chuck Bartowski's Crew._

_You'll see the bad guys are fallin' the world is safer for you…  
__Just see what they can do (see what they can do) Chuck Bartowski's Crew._

_**SCENE**_: A typical two-bedroom apartment in Santa Monica. Two men emerge from one of the bedrooms and go into the living room. It is a mess from a party the previous night. Empty glasses, bottles, and plates are strewn everywhere.

_**CHUCK**_: What a mess in here. Bryce is gone one day, and this place looks like Oscar the Grouch's wet dream. {laugh}

_**JOHNNY**_: Don't look at me. Bryce was the neat freak. I handle crowd control.

_**CHUCK**_: Yeah, you did real good with crowd control when you threw that one guy off the balcony.

_**JOHNNY**_: He brought cheap beer. {laugh}

_**CHUCK**_: Man, Bryce goes off to his new job, and the apartment's already falling apart. We really need his skills for diplomacy.

_**JOHNNY**_: Hey, I can be diplomatic.

_**CHUCK**_: I don't think it counts as diplomatic when you tell the cops who come by if they leave you won't give them a colonoscopy with their own nightsticks. {laugh}

_**JOHNNY**_: [pause] They left quietly, didn't they? {laugh}

[Chuck shakes his head. A blanket is strewn across the couch. He lifts it, and a gorgeous blonde female is lying face down on the couch, passed out, wearing only a black bra and panties.]

_**CHUCK**_: [beat] Oh, good. My Victoria's Secret model came in the mail. {laugh} Remind me to go on Ebay and give that guy a good rating. {laugh}

[The woman on the couch stirs and awakens]

_**SARAH**_: What? How did I get here? Where am I?

_**CHUCK**_: Uh, you're in our apartment? Were you invited to the party?

_**SARAH**_: Um, I have to confess. I came with a friend of one of the gate crashers. [looks down at her appearance] Sorry I look like such a mess.

_**CHUCK**_: [looking up and down at her, sarcastically] Yeah, you're a completely disgusting pig. {laugh}

[Sarah covers herself with the blanket, sticking out her hand]

_**SARAH**_: I'm Sarah Walker, I run a yogurt shop.

_**CHUCK**_: I'm Chuck Bartowski, and the guy with the perpetual cop face is John Casey.

[Chuck shakes her hand and has a flash on her name, discovering she works for the CIA and is a trained agent and assassin.]

_**CHUCK**_: [stepping back] I swear, I was only kidding about the Victoria's Secret thing. {laugh} Not-not that you couldn't be one. I mean you got the body for it. I mean I wasn't staring at those…I mean, you, I mean… {laugh}

_**SARAH**_: What's wrong with you?

_**JOHNNY**_: There's a long essay question if I've ever heard one. {laugh}

_**CHUCK**_: Wait a minute. You know Bryce, don't you?

_**SARAH**_: [surprised] Well, yes. He invited me up here because he said I was needed.

_**JOHNNY**_: [sarcastically] Yeah, he needed to know if he preferred you in black panties or red. {laugh}

_**CHUCK**_: Ignore him. He's still bitter about that redhead that stilted him and left him tied up.

_**JOHNNY**_: She did not leave me tied up.

_**CHUCK**_: Then what was that shot of you on her Facebook page? {laugh}

_**JOHNNY**_: Nerd-boy is lying about that.

_**SARAH**_: [realizes] Wait a minute. 5'9", slender, red hair, light blue eyes? She has a perpetual come hither look?

_**CHUCK**_: Yeah, that's her.

_**SARAH**_: [huge grin] So YOU'RE Big John! {laugh} Carina told me all about you. Way to go, cowboy. {laugh}

_**JOHNNY**_: You know her? [covering up for himself] Hey, nothing happened. That picture was taken in the morning. I'm an early riser.

_**SARAH**_: [quietly, to Chuck] According to Carina, he's an early faller, too. {laugh}

_**JOHNNY**_: It was an assignment. I was thinking about the job.

_**CHUCK**_: And apparently thinking about the wrong one. {laugh}

_**SARAH**_: [to Chuck] You must be the brainy one that Bryce told me about. He was sort of looking out for you? They sent him away, and he told me to come here and keep an eye on you.

_**CHUCK**_: What were you doing before?

_**SARAH**_: I was in Paraguay for a month. I quelled a revolution with a fork.

_**CHUCK**_: Wow. You probably could have quelled it in a week if you used a Cuisinart. {laugh}

_**SARAH**_: So I guess my job is to protect you?

[Outside the door, the landlord, Mr. "Big Mike" Tucker, is about to knock. He hears people talking inside.]

_**CHUCK**_: If you think you can handle me.

_**SARAH**_: Not to worry. I've handled guys much bigger than you before. [Mr. Tucker is shocked] {laugh}

_**CHUCK**_: I don't know. Things can get a little hard sometimes.

_**SARAH**_: That's why they sent me. I'm good at taking care of hard things. The harder, the better. [Mr Tucker is clutching his chest.] {laugh}

[Mr. Tucker knocks nervously. Johnny opens the door.]

_**JOHNNY**_: Mr. Tucker, is something wrong?

_**MR. TUCKER**_: [flabbergasted] Uh, no, no. Nothing's wrong. {laugh} Just, uh, just getting around to replacing those water filters. [noticing Sarah] Are you new here?

_**SARAH**_: Yes, Mr. Tucker. I'm Sarah. I'll be moving into Bryce's old room.

_**MR. TUCKER**_: Ah, Chuck. I know this is 2009, but you know how I feel about this sort of living arrangement.

_**CHUCK**_: [nervous] Uh, that's, that's no problem. Actually, Sarah…Sarah has a girlfriend. [Sarah glares at him but quickly covers it up.] {laugh} She lives over in Anaheim. She's a pro athlete.

_**MR. TUCKER**_: Must own an autographed copy of _Personal Best_. [turns to the camera, laughs at his own joke] {laugh}

_**JOHNNY**_: Maybe you should come back later. The party ran a little late and we have to clean up.

_**MR. TUCKER**_: Yeah, no problem. [to Sarah] If Rosie O'Donnell calls, I'll let you know. {laugh}

_**SARAH**_: What's his problem?

_**CHUCK**_: It's a long, ugly list. {laugh}

[There is another knock on the door. Johnny answers it again. A man with black hair and a beard is there, wearing a leisure suit with a shirt that has enough buttons open to where you can see ample chest hair. A gold medallion is showing through the chest hair.]

_**MORGAN**_: Chuckie! C'mon. Need your help, buddy. Jeff and Lester locked themselves inside the Regal Beagle again. Gotta prevent another health code violation. {laugh}

_**CHUCK**_: [nervous] And this is Morgan Grimes. He works with me at the Buy More.

_**SARAH**_: [glances back and forth between Chuck and Morgan, picks up on it] Ah, I see. Nice to meet you, Morgan.

_**MORGAN**_: [noticing Sarah] Wow, certainly a vision of beauty and loveliness has come across the sad hopeless eyes of a motley crew of males. Alas, my thoughts beckon towards a raven-haired beauty with caramel eyes and a body that would make the Venus de Milo weep.

_**CHUCK**_: Dude, how many times? It creeps me out when you talk about my sister like that. {laugh}

_**JOHNNY**_: [whispering, to Sarah] If Saturday Night Dead over there ever offers to show you his photo collection, decline quickly. {laugh}

_**CHUCK**_: I better go take care of this. I won't be long. Settle in, if you like. [Chuck walks out the door with Morgan]

[Sarah looks around the trashed apartment and sighs.]

_**SARAH**_: Next time, I'll use a toothpick. {laugh}


	25. Chuck vs the Gravitron

_Hello again. You have to like how Chuck knew how to use the manual. (Well, he did with Jill, but that was a different manual altogether.) Anyway, here are a few features listed in the manual the show didn't get to cover. Some of the many features of the Castle Underground Facility._

_**

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**_

CHUCK VS. THE GRAVITRON – CASTLE FACILITY (GT MODEL)

_**SECTION:**_ ENVIRONMENTAL SERVICES  
_**ITEM:**_ ATMOSPHERIC SELECTIVE RECIRCULATOR

For those who are bothered by cigar, cigarette, or pipe smoke, special fans have been installed in Castle to recirculate air. An added feature of this system is the ability to select from 5 possible scents to freshen the facility: including Palm Springs Pine, Coronado Cherry, Laguna Breeze, Monterrey Vanilla, and Newport New Castle.

_**SECTION:**_ PERSONAL PROTECTIVE EQUIPMENT  
_**ITEM:**_ CREW AESTHETICS PROTECTIVE EYEWEAR

Colloquially known as "backwards beer goggles," this device can be employed by CIA/NSA associates who work in close contact with very attractive individuals. The goggles diffuse the aesthetical appearance of any individual to reduce the attractiveness of said individual to a less disconcerting level to allow you to concentrate on your work.

N.B. Effectiveness of the goggles has not been accurately assessed at this time. CIA/NSA analysts will provide an accurate assessment once someone actually decides to use them.

_**SECTION:**_ CIVILIAN RELATIONS  
_**ITEM:**_ EMERGENCY FROZEN YOGURT TOPPING RESERVE

When civilian customers become too demanding in their requests for their frozen yogurt, it can become easy for agents to commit acts that could jeopardize their cover…such as shooting them. This Frozen Yogurt Topping Reserve can be customized based on statistical analysis of sales from the store. Unusual toppings, such as Gummy Bears or caviar can be stored in the Reserve, as well as using it for a backup for more popular toppings, such as cookie crumbles and sprinkles.

_**SECTION:**_ PRISONER INTERROGATION  
_**ITEM:**_ PSYCHOSEMATIC VIDEO SYSTEM

For the agent that needs quick information from their prisoners, this video system can be adjusted to three different levels to increase the breakdown of the prisoner's psyche.

**LEVEL I** – a looping video of the locker room celebration of the 2009 New York Yankees, dubbed to the theme song of "Barney and Friends."

**LEVEL II** – an unending discussion between talk show hosts Glenn Beck and Keith Olbermann alternating between which episode of "The O.C." was the best and whether Carrie Bradshaw from "Sex and the City" should have ended up with Aleksandr, Aidan, or Mr. Big.

**LEVEL III** – a three-hour video of Rush Limbaugh doing a pole dance at a strip club wearing nothing but a g-string.

N.B. Level III should only be used in extreme cases, as it is a direct violation of the Geneva Convention


	26. Chuck vs the Sensei

_Thought I would slip this one in before my next update on "vs. the 42-Year-Old Virgin" so I can catch up to everybody else in the Challenge. Although I have no clue what to do for the next couple of episodes. For now, enjoy this one._

_Now we all know that Ty Bennett shouldn't have been Casey's sensei. He needed a proper one. Let's see what happens in this parody that brings back one of the most beloved cinematic characters of the last 25 years._

_As always, please leave reviews. Reviews are how I find my calm center. :-D_

_**

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CHUCK VS. THE SENSEI – MUST FIND BALANCE

Casey takes another shot to the face and falls to the ground. The sneering blonde male with a headband stands over him. Casey lies there, dazed and angry as his cocky opponent goes back to his mates who are wearing similarly-clad black outfits. Casey's sensei walks up to him.

"Johnny-san, you are still unfocused. I admit, hard for opponent to take you seriously with that haircut and beard."

Casey looks up, barely able to register the short older man in his conscience. "Mr. Miyagi, I'm trying."

"No! Not try. Do…or do not. There is no try."

"Wait a minute. Are you quoting Yoda now?"

"Hai. Ran out of own sayings. Can't compete with 'get 'em a body bag', can I."

"At least they're not over there saying it."

"GET 'EM A BODY BAG!!! YEAH!!" One of the students is yelling and pointing at Casey.

Casey stares at Mr. Miyagi.

"Felt sorry for kid. Couldn't find work after first movie."

"What do I do now, Mr. Miyagi?"

"Always trying to tell you, must find balance Johnny-san. Find calm center within yourself."

"I never had one before. My center is always anger and hatred."

Mr. Miyagi grunts out of anger. "Daniel-san never this difficult."

"He was 23 when you made that film."

"Explains a lot. Must have gotten left back few years."

"And that's another question. Why are you here? You always train high school kids."

"Mr. Miyagi learn, old man hang out with young kids, Dateline NBC and Nancy Grace all up in grill." Mr. Miyagi shakes his head.

"I did like that redhead you trained. Although I admit I have a thing for redheads."

"Ah, yes. Remember her. Not much talent then. Became good actress."

Mr. Miyagi brings himself back to the task at hand. "Must find something to give you calm, Johnny-san. Think of thing that makes you calm."

Casey thinks for a minute. "I love washing my car."

"Hai. Good idea. Go out to car, show me wax on, wax off. Find balance."

"Yes, Mr. Miyagi." Casey enthusiastically runs to the parking lot.

15 minutes later, Mr. Miyagi walks out to the parking lot to find Casey lovingly washing his car, a most peaceful smile on his face.

"You seem to find calm, Johnny-san."

"Yes, Mr. Miyagi. I love to take care of my car. It's always there for me. I don't know what I would do without it."

"Johnny-san not need find balance, Johnny-san need to get laid," Mr. Miyagi quietly observes to himself.

Casey's blonde-haired opponent walks out to the parking lot with a look of contempt.

"Well, well, Casey," Lawrence says as he saunters up to Casey's car. "Mommy didn't drive you here today? That's not what usually happens. And what kind of turdmobile are you driving here? I was still doing movies when this piece of crap was made."

Lawrence holds one nostril and exhales a booger on the windshield. Casey turns to him, ready to explode.

"Never…dick…with the Vic."

Casey sends a roundhouse kick at Lawrence's face and follows it up with a chop to the throat and a flurry of punches. Lawrence is on the ground and not moving.

"Hai. Now that what I call balance, Johnny-san. Think you can wash my car?"

Casey turns to him. "Don't push your luck, old man."

"It's OK. Got a freebie from car wash, anyway."

Casey gets into his car and takes off.


	27. Chuck vs the DeLorean

Hello again. Adding my entry for "Chuck vs. the DeLorean." Clearly Morgan, Jeff, and Lester are big TV and movie car fans. But there are so many cars they could choose from if money was no object. Let's see what they have to say in this little roundtable discussion.

As always, please leave reviews.

* * *

**_CHUCK VS. THE DeLOREAN - TAX, TITLE, AND LICENSE NOT INCLUDED_**

_**MORGAN:**_ OK, Jeff. What car MUST you have?

_**JEFF**_: Dude, I want the van Spicoli had in _Fast Times at Ridgemont High_.

_**LESTER**_: Why would you want that thing? They never got any chicks with it. Spicoli was a burnout. He almost missed the graduation dance to study.

_**JEFF**_: That van, it's just so…tranquil. I feel…so right in that van. I could be in there for days.

_**MORGAN**_: I think a couple of his stoner buddies were. Didn't the one guy go on to do _Revenge of the Nerds_?

_**JEFF**_: See what I mean, dude? Look how that van could expand your horizons.

_**MORGAN**_: [weird glance at Jeff] OK, for me. I got the DeLorean from _Back to the Future_, the General Lee from _The Dukes of Hazzard_. Now I want… the Bluesmobile.

_**LESTER**_: Oooh, good one.

_**MORGAN**_: Can't go wrong with that car. It's like Tommy Lee Jones…always gives you a good performance. Cop motor, cop tires, cop suspension, cop shocks. It was a model made before catalytic converters, so it'll run good on regular gas.

_**LESTER**_: Wouldn't be able to drive it anywhere in the state of California, then.

_**MORGAN**_: Lester, quit ruining the fantasy, will you?

_**LESTER**_: Hey, you could drive it off the top of that weird corncob-looking building in Chicago.

_**MORGAN**_: That was Steve McQueen in _The Hunter_. He drove a Pontiac Grand Prix off of Marina Tower.

_**LESTER**_: Oh, then the Bluesmobile did that chase on the L, right?

_**MORGAN**_: [getting annoyed] That was _Running Scared_, idiot.

_**LESTER**_: OK, my car is the one John Travolta drove in _Swordfish_.

[Morgan and Jeff are confused]

_**MORGAN**_: He drove a car in _Swordfish_?

_**JEFF**_: John Travolta was in _Swordfish_?

_**LESTER**_: Yeah. It was a TVR Tuscan. Convertible.

_**MORGAN**_: You actually remember something from that movie besides Halle Berry's rack? [shakes his head] Scary, Lester. Very scary.

_**JEFF**_: Give me a Gran Torino any day of the week.

_**MORGAN**_: Oh, cool. _Starsky and Hutch_. That Gran Torino was sweet. Red with the white stripe down the middle of each door.

_**JEFF**_: No, man. The one from _The Big Lebowski_. The Dude abides, man. He's like my rock and salvation.

_**MORGAN**_: Did that thing even run?

_**LESTER**_: OK, I loved Fozzie the Bear's Studebaker from _The Muppet Movie_.

_**MORGAN**_: The rainbow-colored one? [another weird glance at Lester] Lester, just…just come out of the closet and be done with it, OK?

_**LESTER**_: That was a cool movie. You said it yourself.

_**MORGAN**_: When I was, like 4, yeah. You wanted me to watch it the other night.

_**JEFF**_: I just saw that car the other day. Well, I think that was the car. I don't know. I just came out of Bennigan's…

_**MORGAN**_: Moving on quickly. OK, best James Bond car. The Aston Martin from _Goldfinger_, the Lotus Esprit from _The Spy Who Loved Me_, or the BMW 750i with the remote control from _Tomorrow Never Dies_?

_**LESTER**_: [in tears] God, it's like _Sophie's Choice_.

_**MORGAN**_: Dude, seriously.

_**JEFF**_: Do you remember the car Wooderson drove in _Dazed and Confused_?

_**MORGAN**_: Not off the top of my head.

_**JEFF**_: It'd be a whole lot cooler if you did!

_**MORGAN**_: [sarcasm] Gee, how long have you been waiting to say that? OK, gotta include the Trans Am from _Smokey and the Bandit_ and Steve McQueen's Mustang from _Bullitt_. Two coolest cars in chase movies of all time. The Batmobile, of course. And Flounder's car from _Animal House_ would be great. The Emil Faber hood ornament was such a nice touch.

[Lester starts humming, Jeff picks up on it.]

_**MORGAN**_: And if I'm taking Anna on a special date, give me Cameron's dad's car from Ferris Bueller. That Ferrari…what are you two humming.

_**JEFF & LESTER**_: Here he comes, here comes Speed Racer, he's a demon on wheels!

_**MORGAN**_: And on that note…


	28. Chuck vs Santa Claus

_Hello again. I must admit having some difficulty coming up with ideas. But I thought about Emmett's little plug for the store in this episode once he was let out by Ned Rhyerson, and my mind harkened back to the days when WOR-TV (now WWOR-TV) in New York was one of the big cable stations. (I grew up in Chicago, so we already knew about WGN.) But I do remember a certain electronics store with their low-budget commercials that advertised insanely low prices. Of course, nobody would ever let a little thing like a hostage situation get in the way of a good marketing strategy, would they? Here's a script I found for a very special sale at Buy More._

_As always, please leave reviews._

_**

* * *

**_

CHUCK VS. SANTA CLAUS – SHOPPING THAT IS INNNNSAAANNEE!

_**BIG MIKE: **_It's Crazy Mikey!

_**EMMETT:**_ And Insane Emmett!

_**BIG MIKE:**_ And our store is in BIG trouble! The front is smashed! Our customers were assaulted, and a phony cop was shot dead!

_**EMMETT:**_ What does that all mean?

_**BIG MIKE &**_ _**EMMETT:**_ LOWER PRICES FOR YOU!

_**BIG MIKE:**_ Come to the Buy More Christmas Day SALE! We have the best selection of LAST-SECOND gift ideas!

_**EMMETT:**_ It's the sale for the EXTREME procrastinator!

_**BIG MIKE:**_ Did you wait until CHRISTMAS DAY to do your shopping? THIS!! IS!! YOUR!! SALE!!

_**EMMETT:**_ Some of the lowest prices you can imagine! 15…20 percent off across the store!

_**BIG MIKE:**_ (whispers) Emmett, did you put higher tags on everything?

_**EMMETT:**_ (whispers) Marked up everything 40% last night.

_**BIG MIKE:**_ (to camera) EVEN 25% OFF!

_**EMMETT:**_ Show no mercy! It's like you're holding us hostage for the best deal!

_**BIG MIKE:**_ Put a gun to our head! We don't care! We're used to it now! Anything to make your last-second Christmas shopping go well!

_**EMMETT:**_ Don't waste your time with annoying relatives, ungrateful kids, and that movie they play 24 hours in a row that you know every line to, anyway! Come to the Buy More Christmas Day Sale!

_**BIG MIKE: **_Still gotta buy lots of expensive gifts? We don't care! Need to max out your credit card? We don't care! Don't plan to pay for it?

_**BIG MIKE & EMMETT:**_ (slamming fists on table) THAT'S WHEN WE CARE!

_**BIG MIKE:**_ Drive your car right up to the store. Hey, you can drive your car IN the store!

_**EMMETT:**_ The Buy More Christmas Day Sale! Exclusively at our Burbank location!

_**BIG MIKE:**_ The Buy More Christmas Day Sale! Where our prices are…

_**BIG MIKE &**_ _**EMMETT:**_ IN-SAAAAAANNNNNEEEE!!!!!!


	29. Chuck vs the 3rd Dimension

_Ah, "Chuck vs. the 3__rd__ Dimension." Not a fan favorite, but it was a fun episode. So, what do you write about for this one? As much as I'd like to write a thousand words on Sarah in the opening scene (rawr!), this really isn't the forum for it. Sadly, such places do exist on the Internet for that. I'm not sure where I thought this up, but I thought a nice interview with Tyler Martin right before his show might do the trick. I recommend you watch the episode first so you can get Dominic Monaghan's voice in your head as you read this. And I'm not paying for your expensive therapy to get it back out again._

_**CHUCK VS. THE 3**__**RD**__** DIMENSION – TYLER MARTIN: THE ROLLING STONE INTERVIEW**_

**PETE TRAVERS:** I'm here in Burbank at, of all places, in the employee break room of a large electronics store. My interview today is with Tyler Martin, whose new album is set to debut this week. He is putting on a charity concert tonight, and we're going to ask him a few questions about the new album, how life has been for the hard-partying star from the U.K., and how he feels about some of the issues our world faces today.

**P.T.:** Tyler! Over here!

_(Tyler Martin enters with a frazzled Chuck Bartowski trying to keep tabs on him.)_

**TYLER MARTIN:** Oh, for f---'s sake, where the hell did I leave my drink? It's after 2PM, it's OK to drink now, right? Blimey stupid alcohol rules in this country, anyway.

**P.T.:** Tyler, nice to meet you.

**T.M.:** Right, you're the bloke from Spin. Nice to meet you. Rather see you chaps than those stuffy prigs from Rolling Stone. They just got something up their arse when they interview you. They tried to make that bloody Courtney Love interview sound like Frost/Nixon.

**P.T.:** (carefully) Uh, Pete Travers, Rolling Stone Magazine.

**T.M.:** _(double-take, stumbles forward to shake hands)_ Oh, right. Met you at Wembley last year. Nice bloke, I know you._ (quietly, to Chuck)_ Bastard couldn't be stiffer if he OD'ed on Viagra, mate.

**P.T.:** OK, let's start. Why the charity concert here in L.A.?

**T.M.:** Well, it's to give back to my fans, who have been so supportive of me. And it's good to raise social awareness…or somethin' like that. Actually, my probey officer said I could do this and donate all the money, and that's gotta be better than picking up bloody trash, ain't it. Bastards at the Chateau Marmont got no bollixin' sense of humor. They let Morrison shoot up all they want, but the buggers won't let you take a leak off the balcony.

**P.T.:** Uh, you urinated on an undercover L.A. Police officer.

**T.M.:** Blimey, mate. I thought that was Keith Richards.

**P.T.:** Now, the album, _Touch This!_, what inspired you to produce this?

**T.M.:** _(uncontrollable snickering)_ Mate, you can't be that naïve, now can you? _(solemnly)_ I feel the album reaches out to a lot of people in who are facing a problem within themselves to find their own identity in our uncertain world.

**P.T.:** Very profound.

**T.M.:** _(to Chuck, cracking up)_ Viagra boy bought that? No wonder I prefer the blokes at Spin.

**P.T.:** Do you think this appearance will help you redeem your public image after the sex tape scandal?

**T.M.:** _(swaying back and forth) _Tell you the truth, man, I was hoping that sex tape would redeem my public image. Girl told me she was 17, that's legal, ain't it?

**CHUCK:** (_whispering to Tyler_) Uh, that's in England. Age of consent is 18 in the States.

**T.M.:** What? I tell ya, I'm firin' my manager after this. Stupid bloke doesn't know the laws in this country?

**P.T.:** (_uncomfortable_) Anyway, how have you enjoyed L.A. so far?

**T.M.:** Oh, it's so right this time, mate. I was at this club last night with uh, Chet here. Man, you should have seen the loo this place has! It felt like it was outside! It was so tranquil!

**CHUCK:** (_whispering_ _to Tyler_) Uh, you were outside. That was a fountain you peed in.

**T.M.:** Blimey, man. You gotta keep me up on these things if you're gonna be my manager. Anyway, fans out here are great. This one bird, totally hot chick, rocking body, blondie she was totally into me. I don't know what happens though. I start thinking of taking her up to my hotel suite so we can have sex on the balcony, and every time I see her, I fall asleep. It's weird, mate. I don't get that.

_(Sarah enters the room and Tyler sees her)_

**T.M.:** Ah, there she is again! _(gets hit by Casey's tranq dart)_ And there it is again. _(Falls over asleep. Sarah grabs the tranq dart before Pete can see it.)_

**SARAH:** I'm sorry, Mr. Travers, but we have to get Mr. Martin ready for his concert.

_(Casey enters and carries Tyler out.)_

**P.T.:** Well, you certainly are someone to watch out for. Thank you for your time. (Sarah and Casey leave) Well, Chet was it?

**CHUCK:** Chuck, actually.

**P.T.:** Tyler's new handlers really take their job seriously.

**CHUCK:** _(looking back at Sarah and Casey)_ Oh, yeah. I mean, they go up to 11.


	30. Chuck vs the Best Friend

Hello again. Just thought I would slip this ChuckMeMondays chapter in before the tryptophan kicks into high gear. Chuck certainly didn't like what he had to do to protect Morgan in this one, and it's obvious why. How fitting this chapter comes up at Thanksgiving, and we know that the holidays tend to get messed up around the Bartowski abode. So let's have a little Thanksgiving in February in the Chuckverse as we find out why Chuck is thankful for the people in his life.

And may you have people in life who you are not only thankful for, but who are also thankful for you.

* * *

**_CHUCK VS. THE BEST FRIEND - A LITTLE TOAST_**

"Chuck!"

Ellie couldn't believe what she was seeing. Chuck was walking into the kitchen loaded down with the makings of a feast. It made no sense. Valentine's Day just passed, and she knew he and Sarah already went out. What was this all about?

"Chuck, why are you making the kitchen look like the next staging area for Top Chef?"

"Because, sis…I wanted to do something special. I wanted to invite a few people over, and I know you like having big dinner parties. This one will be even better! I'll do all the work, and you just make sure I don't do anything that forfeits our security deposit."

"Why, Chuck? What is going on?"

It was at this point that Chuck hemmed and hawed a little bit. She knew things were a little crazy at work. Things were crazy all over these last couple of weeks. Devon finally stepped up to the plate and took care of so many items for the wedding. Fortunately, Jeffster! wouldn't be part of the wedding, although she did have to endure their performance at the Buy More.

It hadn't escaped Ellie's attention that things seemed a little strained between Chuck and Morgan…and Chuck and Sarah, for that matter. She really didn't have many details to go by. But she had a feeling what Chuck was doing now might be related to it.

"Chuck, why a turkey, stuffing, and cranberry sauce? We're closer to St. Patrick's Day now. Shouldn't that be corned beef and green beer?"

"Well, I thought it would be good to have a Thanksgiving in February. You know, just to celebrate what we're thankful for. Besides, wouldn't it be good to have a proper Thanksgiving without worrying about the Very Awesomes, or Morgan picking through the garbage, or Jeff and Lester drinking straight out of the wine bottle?"

Ellie looks at Chuck for a moment. The thought of reconciling with Morgan still left her with a slight dread. But she couldn't deny that Morgan was important to him. And she certainly wanted to support him if there were problems between Sarah and him. She had seen how well Sarah had taken to everybody in the family. She was probably the closest thing Ellie had to a sister, and she was easily the best thing to ever happen to Chuck.

"OK, a dinner sounds good. But I'll take care of the tough stuff. If we're going all out, I don't want anybody scared away by your cooking."

Chuck laughs. "Thanks, sis." He gives her a hug.

"You're welcome. Now get your butt setting the table and making sure everything is cleaned up. I'll start preparing the turkey."

* * *

"Everybody, everybody. I would like to propose a toast."

Chuck stood among the three couples, clinking his wine glass. He took a look around the table. Morgan and Anna seemed to be enjoying themselves, while Ellie and Awesome looked over the amazing spread the siblings concocted in only a few hours time. Sarah was the quietest one in the group this evening. Aside from a few thank you's and the occasional request for one of the delicious side items that accompanied the turkey, she was unusually subdued.

"I just want to say, first of all, thank you for coming here tonight. Especially on such short notice."

"Uh, make this quick, buddy," Morgan interrupts. "I'm debating about whether or not to fill up with a fourth serving of turkey, but I think we all know how that will go."

"And thank you, Morgan, for keeping us updated on your voracious appetite. But I wanted to say that…this is something I never say enough. I wanted to tell each one of you how thankful I am that you are in my life. My sister, Ellie. We've always looked out for each other through the bad times, and now that we've gotten to the good times, I'm so glad to have gone through both with the best sister a guy can have.

"Devon, you are the man. You're always there, encouraging me, never saying a bad word about or to anyone. That is such a rare quality in this world. Anna, you make it much easier to survive the war zone that is the Buy More. Without you, we'd have the only Nerd Herd desk with a wet bar."

Morgan turns his head and quietly clears his throat, trying to be noticed without being noticed.

"Morgan, I didn't forget you, I promise. No matter what happened in my life, you were always there. Sometimes, it was because I was stopping some girl from beating the crap out of you, or you might have accidentally third-wheeled me on a date. But you were always there in the rough times, too. Shared a pizza, played videogames, whatever it was. Not a lot of people have that sort of loyalty in a friend, and I consider myself fortunate to have met one of the best."

"And to Sarah. It cannot be easy for anybody to break into such an odd group as those here tonight. But in addition to being so incredibly beautiful and smart, and cool…you always make things work somehow. I don't know where I'd be now if it weren't for you. It's been a rough few years since Stanford, but now life makes so much more sense to me, thanks to you."

Chuck paused and looked down at the ground, trying to collect himself. He raises his glass higher.

"To all of you, I am truly thankful. Cheers."

"Cheers!" Everybody clinks their glasses with everybody else.

* * *

Chuck walked outside with Sarah, who was heading back to her hotel.

"Did you enjoy yourself tonight?"

"Yes, I did. Thank you for inviting me over. Everything was wonderful. You and Ellie have holidays at the oddest times. Mother's Day in October, Thanksgiving in February. I might suggest having New Year's on the Fourth of July. You won't have to worry about forgetting fireworks."

Chuck laughs. "Well, I caused enough fireworks for one day, don't you think? You looked like you couldn't even breathe when you thought I blew up in the Nerd Herder."

"I did not…" Sarah immediately went silent when she saw Chuck's look. She had to admit it: she was beside herself for those few seconds until Chuck walked up behind her with the Nerd Herder remote control. Casey would be on her permanent Christmas card list for thinking of installing that in the car.

"OK, you got me. I was scared. I…I never felt that way before about watching that happen to someone. Bryce and I, we always seemed to figure ways out of trouble, but we were trained to do that. You…you just got in the car with the bomb to save Morgan's life. I don't know anybody who could have done that."

Chuck smiles and stands closer to her. "You know how you said earlier that you never had anybody who cared about you the way I care about Morgan? That is a real shame, because I can't think of anybody who does a better job caring about someone."

Sarah looks down, trying to rein in her emotions. This had been a trying few days for her. She felt horrible for acting so coldly towards Chuck's relationship with Morgan, and even what she said about never having someone care about her like that felt a bit flimsy. Chuck does what he did, and he's saying SHE'S the best at caring for someone?

She quickly glances at the window. "Oops, Ellie and Morgan are watching." She puts her hand on Chuck's face to keep his eyes on her. "Better sell a goodnight kiss."

Chuck smiles as Sarah stands on her toes and pulls his face to her. She placed a gentle kiss on his lips, allowing her lips to linger a few seconds. She opened her eyes again and gazed into those halcyon brown eyes he possesses, so full of joy and optimism.

"Goodnight, Chuck," she whispered.

"Goodnight, Sarah."

She quickly walked to her car. She cursed herself a little bit for letting the goodnight be too intimate.

Ellie and Morgan were never at the window.

She had this annoying habit of falling for guys she worked with. There was a slight difference this time. There was a part of her that congratulated her for going that far with an asset. Maybe she was making another mistake by falling for Chuck. But if anybody knew, they would probably tell her the mistake would be not falling for him.


	31. Chuck vs the Suburbs

_OK, I have to admit, I had a hard time coming up with something for this episode. There were so many hysterical moments on the show (and Casey's god-awful taste in cologne), it should have been easy. But then I thought about blind dates, and I realized that they don't end like the ones that Big Mike went on. (Hell, I gave up ages ago.) Since Jeff and Lester seem to be "experts," let's see what they'd have to say in dealing with the love lives of everybody. _

_**

* * *

**_

CHUCK VS. THE SUBURBS – THEY CALL THEM DOCTOR LOVE

_Dear Dr. Jeffster,_

_I'm considering delving into the world of online dating. Any advice?_

_Signed,  
__PastryMaster_

JEFF: Dude, that is some scary territory. You gotta watch for what people write in those ads. They always lie. You could end up with some loser who works in a retail store who gets drunk every night.

LESTER: Did you just describe yourself?

JEFF: (quietly) Man, don't undercut me. I'll tell everybody you cried on your last date.

LESTER: I did not.

JEFF: I picked you up from the side of the road where that girl ditched you.

LESTER: (back to camera) Anyway, the most important thing is to remember is that you gotta make conversions. If a woman says she's voluptuous, that means overweight. If she's fun, she drinks heavily. If she's slept with 5 guys, that means she's slept with 15.

JEFF: Isn't that the other way around?

LESTER: No, I got that from _American Pie_. Guys always multiply their number of actual times, women divide.

JEFF: So, how did you have sex only 1/3 of a time?

LESTER: Quiet!

_Dear Dr. Jeffster,_

_I have a job where I'm required to keep my emotions in check. How do I show interest in a woman without all those lady feelings getting in the way?_

_Signed,  
__ReaganIsGod_

LESTER: Good question. The best bet is to know her interests, pick the one you can tolerate the most, and develop an interest in it yourself.

JEFF: Yeah, just take a small camera and plant in her apartment and she what she does at night. You know, what she watches, what she reads, what she has in the drawer in the nightstand next to her bed…

LESTER: Jeff! It creeps me out when you talk like that! This guy wouldn't do something like that. Quit watching _Enemy of the State_ every other day!

_Dear Dr. Jeffster,_

_For some reason, I'm attracted to my co-workers. Even though I've been told I'm very attractive with a great body, I can only seem to get turned on by the men I work with. Is there something wrong with me?_

_Signed,  
__FrozenYogurtSux_

JEFF: Where do you work, and are you hiring?

LESTER: Moving on quickly for her sake…

_Dear Dr. Jeffster,_

_I work with a woman whom I'm very attracted to, but we can't be together because…well, it's complicated. How do I deal with this?_

_Signed,  
__Nerdtastic_

JEFF: Does he work with FrozenYogurtSux? If so, I've got some news for him…

LESTER: Not likely. You just have to spin this around. You have to make it look like she needs you more than you need her. You know, play hard to get.

JEFF: So that means you're playing hard to get with every woman in the world?

LESTER: Hey, I had a date the other night. She was really cute.

JEFF: The one you met at Bennigan's the other night? The really tall one with bleach-blonde hair?

LESTER: OK, she was taller than me, but she wanted to take me home. I was trying to play it cool.

JEFF: (beat) You know the song _Lola_ by The Kinks?


	32. Chuck vs the Beefcake

_This one actually took quite a long time. The idea was simple enough, but the problem was writing it with all of the quotes right. In honor of MI-6 agent Cole Barker joining Team Bartowski in this story, I thought I would re-write the script from "Chuck vs. the Beefcake" using nothing but lines from James Bond films. (Obviously edited so they have names from the Chuckverse in them.)_

_Enjoy, and please leave reviews._

_**CHUCK VS. THE BEEFCAKE – BARKER…COLE BARKER**_

[Beckman ordering the team to get the belt from Cole Barker]

_**SARAH**_: I doubt he'll remember me.

_**BECKMAN**_: Remind him. Then pump him for information.

_**CASEY**_: You'll just have to decide how much pumping is necessary, Sarah.

_**CHUCK**_: (disgusted) Oh, grow up, Casey.

[In the hotel lobby]

_**SARAH**_: Please to meet you, Mr.

_**COLE**_: Barker…Cole Barker

_**SARAH**_: That's quite a mouthful.

_**COLE**_: Well, you were saying about going down…together?

[In the hotel room after Sarah and Cole struggle for the belt]

_**SARAH**_: No, no, no. No more foreplay. I know all about you, Cole. Sex for dinner, death for breakfast?

_**COLE**_: I don't think you need the gun.

_**SARAH**_: That depends on your definition of safe sex.

[On the hotel roof]

_**COLE**_: Uhhh, in London April's a spring month.

_**CHUCK**_: Oh yeah? And what are you, the weatherman? I mean, for crying out loud... another stiff-ass Brit.

_**HELICOPTER PILOT**_: That's a Smith & Wesson, and you've had your six. (Opens fire on Chuck, Sarah, and Cole)

_**SARAH**_: (car she hides behind gets shot up) Do you destroy every vehicle you get in?

_**COLE**_: (shrugs) Standard operating procedure. Boys with toys.

[back at Castle, Cole is putting the moves on Sarah]

_**COLE**_: Well, I've had a lovely evening. You?

_**SARAH**_: (disdainfully) Once again, the pleasure was all yours.

_**COLE**_: And you, Sarah? Well, your beauty's a problem. You worry you won't be taken seriously.

_**SARAH**_: Which one can say of any attractive woman with half a brain.

_**COLE**_: (moving in) But as you can see, I have no problems with female authority.

_**SARAH**_: Don't get any ideas, Mr. Barker.

_**COLE**_: The thought never crossed my mind.

_**SARAH**_: That's one English custom that will need to be changed.

_**COLE**_: But of course, darling.

_**SARAH**_: Now, having just met you, I wouldn't go as far as calling you a cold-hearted bastard...

_**COLE**_: No, of course not

_**SARAH**_: But it wouldn't be a stretch to imagine. You think of women as disposable pleasures, rather than meaningful pursuits. So as charming as you are, Mr. Barker, I will be keeping my eye on our government's data - and off your perfectly-formed arse.

[Chuck sees Sarah and Cole's interplay on the monitor]

_**CHUCK**_: Ugh, what does he think he's doing?

_**CASEY**_: (standard Casey smirk) Keeping the British end up, obviously.

[Sarah, Casey, and Cole attempt to meet Cole's contact, and Chuck has the chip]

_**CHUCK**_: (messing with the chip) Apparently, I have a slight inferiority complex.

[Kate and her cohorts come to the Buy More to capture him.]

_**KATE**_: What would it take for you to see things my way?

_**CHUCK**_: A lot more than you've got.

_**KATE**_: How do you know?

_**CHUCK**_: I don't want to know.

[Chuck, Sarah, and Cole are being held]

_**CHUCK**_: Do you really expect me to talk?

_**KATE**_: Why no, Mr. Carmichael. I expect you to die!

_**SARAH**_: (to Chuck, admiring his bravery) If the only thing left of you was your smile and your little finger, you'd still be more of a man than anyone I've ever known.

_**CHUCK**_: That's because you know what I can do with my little finger...

_**KATE**_: Too bad for Casey. He's not coming back for you. He just died running, trying to save his own skin. Yeah.

(Casey busts in and Kate commits suicide)

_**SARAH**_: Is this your idea of coming through in a clinch?

_**CASEY**_: The backup plans. I said I'd be here, right?

_**SARAH**_: We need to get this chip back, or someone's gonna have my ass.

_**CHUCK**_/_**COLE**_: (together) First thing's first.


	33. Chuck vs the Lethal Weapon

_Hello. Hope everybody is enjoying the ChuckMeMondays Challenges. I gotta hand it to TwoToTenth. The man can crank these stories out. I'm thinking he'll make it all the way through before January 10th, although I will give it the college try myself._

_Just a short story this time where we think about what Chuck is going through after finding out Cole was captured. Just when you have it all figured out, life decides you're too comfortable and throws a major-league curveball at you. It happens, doesn't it?_

_I've got the ideas for the next two stories ready to go: a little funny parody for "Chuck vs. the Predator," and a bit of an angsty story for "Chuck vs. the Broken Heart." If any of you are reading my "Forrest & Slade" story, you can probably take an educated guess as to the topic for that episode._

_Enjoy, and please leave reviews. You know, just a little Christmas present. Probably the cheapest gift you'll give all season._

* * *

**_CHUCK VS. THE LETHAL WEAPON - LIFE IS UNSCRIPTED_**

_What the hell happened?_

Chuck thought he had this whole thing figured out by now. A few slaps by supermodels aside, he finally got to a place where he could deal with his world in the Buy More and his world as the Intersect. He didn't want to do it, but he had to get away from Sarah, at least in the "cover couple" sense. He thought moving in with Morgan would show at least a little progress. After all, he'd be moving out from under Ellie and Awesome's constant nagging regarding his life, giving them a little more space. Pretending to be Sarah's boyfriend while wanting nothing more in his life to be her actual boyfriend would finally feel sane because there would be some distance. Of course, Ellie was not thrilled by any stretch of the imagination of Chuck cohabitating with Morgan. But she was the one who recommended the breakup in the first place. She was at least partially right: Sarah said they couldn't be any more than they were now. It drove Chuck crazy.

That was a much simpler world yesterday.

Why the hell did Cole have to get himself captured? It forced Chuck to go under 24-hour surveillance. In short, he and Sarah had to move in together. Now the pretend girlfriend he couldn't have in real life would be that much closer to him, yet still infinitely out of reach. She was right there, in fact. Sleeping in his bed. This wasn't the pretend sexual encounter of last year, either. Although her choice of sleepwear that night drove him insane as well. Why do women look 10 times hotter when they wear one of your items of clothing? Of course, Sarah could make a baggy sweatshirt and wrinkly pants look like a Victoria's Secret commercial. With the insanely tiny panties she was wearing now, Chuck couldn't take it. She tried her best to give him plenty of real estate in the bed. It was still too close for comfort.

Their talk in the bathroom was awkward. Exiting the shower in just a towel, no matter how well she covered herself, was particular torture. Their conversation about Cole's capture, which would have been rough under normal circumstances, went to a whole new level of discomfiture. Ellie going sister-ballistic on the two of them didn't help either, nor did Awesome's creepy comment about "letting the worm wriggle free." Suddenly, it felt like Cole was getting the better end of this deal.

He tried not to wish any ill-will towards Cole. Chuck had to give credit where it was due. As arrogant as he was, he saved Sarah's life and tried to take the fall for them and pretend he was the Intersect. But it was so damn hard. He was everything, a Generation-X James Bond. He couldn't stand that Sarah kissed him, but could you blame her?

And now Cole was in the hands of Fulcrum. Chuck was so close to having life figured out, and now he may not survive the day. Cole was certainly resourceful and brave, and maybe things would work out. But two words kept haunting every second of his morning. The two words he hoped were not true, and yet they seemed inevitable.

"Everybody talks."


	34. Chuck vs the Predator

_Well, it's that time of year again. And here's a little ad from the boys at the Beverly Hills Buy More for you last-minute shoppers who have that all-too-common problem of having too much money and no idea how to spend it at Christmas. Because we can all identify with that, can't we? (These were four of the five nametags on the Beverly Hills Buy More staff. Love the "Trading Places" reference, don't you?)_

_Enjoy, and could you ask Santa to send me a few reviews for Christmas? I promise I was good all year!_

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**_CHUCK VS. THE PREDATOR - FOR ALL YOUR LAST-MINUTE NEEDS WITHOUT THOSE LAST-MINUTE DISCOUNTS_**

_**BARCLAY:**_ Looking for some last-minute gift ideas? Don't know what to get that special someone? Do you find huge discounts beneath you? Do you have just too much money to spend and not enough time to do it? Just stop in at Buy More of Beverly Hills!

_**WINTHORP:**_ That's right. We have all of the best electronic and computer gift ideas for your holiday needs. Best of all, we don't have sales here. You pay full price, so you can show just how much you love those closest to you!

_**TROY, JR.:**_ Just take a look at our TV section! You won't find cheap brands here at prices you can afford. We only carry Plasma and LED TV's of 72" or higher. And you won't find anything but 1080i. If it's under $3,000, we don't carry it! It's the TV that can satisfy your husband, even if he can't satisfy you in the bedroom without the use of medication.

_**SETH:**_ Or if it's a computer you're looking for, we have all the top-of-the-line brands! You only use the computer for email or writing documents? Let us sell you this Apple G5 Computer with 42" LCD monitor, 20 TB hard drive, and over 128 GB of RAM for just $27,995. Sure to impress any house guest!

_**BARCLAY:**_ Hey kids! Want to spend a little of your trust fund this holiday? Upset that your parents didn't get you a third horse for your own stable on your property? We have this super-duper silver-jeweled platinum toy robot imported all the way from Japan! And at $250,000, that will leave you plenty of money for that Ferrari you'll get when you get your driver's license! After all, we're PROUD to help spend your parents' money.

_**TROY, JR.:**_ Or if you're into music and think the 160 GB iPhone is beneath you, we have this SWINGIN' MP3 player imported from London for just $45,000! You can drown out the sounds of your wife complaining that you don't take her to Gstaad anymore!

_**BARCLAY:**_ Best of all, we have underground parking for your Bentley and free coffee for your chauffeur! We do require a minimum $200 tip for our valet, but you'll agree that's money well spent. And now we feature our own privately-contracted snipers on the roof so that those who would seek to do you harm as you go out of our lot won't bother you any more!

_**ALL:**_ Buy More of Beverly Hills: Because we find discounts insulting, too!

_**BARCLAY:**_ We're at 10100 Wilshire Boulevard, on the corner of Wilshire and Doheny! Open from 10AM-4PM, 5 days a week, closed 12-2 PM for lunch, closing at 3PM on Fridays! Buy More of Beverly Hills: Sales are overrated!


	35. Chuck vs the Broken Heart

_Hello. I hope everybody had a good holiday. Those of you who have read __**Chuck vs. the 42-Year-Old Virgin **__or __**Forrest and Slade: The Popeye Doyle Mission**__ know from those stories that the Alex Forrest in those is a much different one that the cold-hearted agent that was on the show for this episode. Like every other character, though, her past is a reflection on how she is today. I thought I would fill in a few pieces of history that haven't been done as of yet regarding Agent Alex Forrest._

_Those of you who did read __**Forrest and Slade: The Popeye Doyle Mission**__ already know where this story will eventually go. For the rest of you, this will get very angsty at the end. Just want to warn you now. Not the greatest topic to come up at holiday time, but I have to step up the pace if I want to finish all episodes by January 10__th__. Feel free to review if you like._

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**CHUCK VS. THE BROKEN HEART – ONE DAY MAKES THE DIFFERENCE**

_**Temple University  
May 16, 1999  
11:30 AM**_

Michael Forrest Jr. looked out over the crowd and saw the faces of thousands of proud parents and kids. He wondered if he stood out, as he couldn't be prouder of what his first child accomplished.

Next to him, Beverly held his hand tightly and beamed as only a mother could watching her daughter graduate from a prestigious university. Then again, perhaps she was secretly happy that he finally decided to retire after 34 years on the force. She had been waiting for him to come home permanently. She had far too many nights of wondering if he would ever come home. Such was the burden of being the wife of a cop. Like any wife waiting for her husband's retirement, she had a long list of things for him. Travel was at the top of the list. Michael wasn't much of a traveling person, with the Catskills and Walt Disney World being his limits in exotic locations.

Michael Forrest Jr. was one of the best beat cops the city of Philadelphia ever had. He never gave in to his hot Irish temper and became a very popular officer in the neighborhoods he served. He distinguished himself by helping keep the peace while resorting to minimal use of force as a relatively new cop on April 4th, 1968, as many neighborhoods degraded into rioting following the assassination of Dr. Martin Luther King. He helped out his former neighbors in South Philly for so many years and through so much hardship. Half of the meals he ate away from his family were compliments of the many restaurants that loved "Mikey J," even long after the city banned police officers from receiving favors from local businesses. They loved his father, Michael Sr., who quite a character during the Depression Era. Mikey J heard more than a few stories about his old man growing up, even though he never actually knew him. His father went to serve his country in the Navy and was shipped to Pearl Harbor, Hawaii, in August, 1941. He learned about his future son a month before the horrible attack on December 7th. The good thing about living back then is that everybody looked out for everybody else, and Mikey J had several dozen dads around to keep him honest.

Michael never asked for any favors, but he got them anyway. He was always assigned to work the players' tunnel at Veteran's Stadium when the Eagles had a home game, and Villanova coach Rollie Massimino asked him to be on the security detail when the Wildcats went to the Final Four in 1985 in Lexington, Kentucky.

He had to hold back a few tears. After all, he would have to do this again in two years with Michael III. He just completed his sophomore year at Penn State, and he was on his way to being a lawyer. He had to smile at the irony of being a beat cop for all those years, and his kids decided to be lawyers. At least, his son planned to keep it that way.

Alex, on the other hand, would be home for four months, and then she was off to Quantico, Virginia for training to be an FBI agent. As much as Michael didn't want "Daddy's Little Girl," as he still thought of her despite being dwarfed by her by 3 inches, to be in harm's way as an agent, he knew he didn't stand a chance of talking her out of it. He wanted Beverly to do that so he wouldn't have to be a hypocrite cop talking his daughter out of being one. However, Beverly wasn't having any of it. She was happy that Alex decided to do this. Michael never rose past the rank of Sergeant, and he never wanted to. This didn't affect them financially, as she was not obsessed with material wealth, and he had a good pension and 401K to live off of. However, she saw too many lesser men get promoted over her husband, and it irked her sometimes that such things were water off the duck's back to him. She didn't want Alex falling into the trap of complacency.

"Alexandra Caroline Forrest, B.A. in Criminology."

The announcement came over the speakers, and Alex walked across the stage. The woman named for her two grandmothers was the classic graduate in her maroon gown with mortarboard as she accepted the document from the president of the university, a smile going across her face from ear to ear. Michael and Beverly stood up and applauded, in spite of repeated requests from the crowd to wait until all candidates were done, and Michael finally let a couple of tears get through. He held onto Beverly tightly as Alex raised her degree documentation in the air and then pointed at the two of them.

_**Solutions Bar & Grill - Triangle, VA  
October 29, 1999  
8:30 PM**_

"I scored higher than you on that test, Tamara."

"No way in hell! I left you in the dust on that one, girl!"

"Bull effin' shit! You know I'm the brains of our particular organization. Let's go. Pay the man. I'm having a double."

Tamara Rice reluctantly put her $10 on the bar, and the bartender gave the requested shots to Alex and her. She had to admit her roommate was the smarter one, although she could kick her ass when it came to physical activity. Granted, Alex had quite the advantage with 5 inches of reach on her compact 5'5" frame, but she knew once she got inside that lanky frame, she could take down the much taller Alex Forrest. When it came to weapons and rescue drills, they were on par with each other. Tamara thought Alex should have been on a runway in New York somewhere, not crawling through the mud and drilling the center of a target with her Glock from 100 feet away. But after five minutes of hearing Alex swear enough to make sailors run for the hills, she knew that she drew quite a character for a roommate.

"OK, here we go," Tamara said as she raised her shotglass. "To Captain Varley and his 30 hours of boring-ass lectures and stupid essay final exam."

"Fuck him!" The group of 6 FBI candidates said in unison as they downed their shots.

The bartender put two more shots in front of Alex and Tamara. "Compliments of the guy at the end of the bar."

Alex and Tamara looked down at the man who gave them the drinks and smiled in thanks. He was dressed in a fairly conservative suit. He had short blonde hair and gorgeous blue eyes, but those were the only things that screamed California surfer dude. His pale skin, which looked like it had seen its share of sunburn once or twice, screamed northeast more than anything else. Certainly he had a confident swagger about him.

"Go say Hi to him," Tamara prodded Alex.

"Nah, not my type. Too much of a pretty boy."

"How much of a pretty boy can he be? That looks like Jack Daniels he's drinking."

"Well, you go say hi to him, you think he's so frickin' hot."

Tamara held up her ring finger. "Uh, I'm currently occupied, or did you forget?"

Alex gave her a disgusted look. "Yeah, I forgot. You married Mr. Perfect. Taye frickin' Diggs with a sweet high six-figure job for a finance company. And you still won't let me borrow him."

"Yeah, I know. I'm not letting you wrap those long legs around him. You'd be like that bitch in that Bond film that crushed guys with her legs."

"Oh, but he'd love to go out like that, wouldn't he? Just one weekend? You can play with him, too," Alex replied with a knowing glance.

"Forget it, Alex. Get your own. Like the one right over there. He's hot. He doesn't look intimidated by you. Let's face it: you intimidate people. Your dating pool is pretty limited."

Alex sighed. Tamara was right: it was hard to find men who weren't intimidated by her. She had one steady boyfriend in high school, Trevor. They had sex a few times junior and senior years of high school, but he eventually cheated on her, and she ended up with a three-day suspension for giving him a black eye and kneeing him in the balls. For senior prom, only two guys showed any interest, which was almost unheard of given her looks. One was a skinny, brainy kid who was just looking for a prom date to say he went to prom, and a 350 pound lineman on the football team. She should have gone out with the lineman, since the brainy kid chickened out at prom when he tried to dance with her and only came up to her breasts when she wore heels.

She walked over to the other end of the bar. The smile on the man's face seemed to indicate she was the one he was interested in.

"Hi, I'm John," he said, offering his hand.

Alex did like his smile, she had to admit. "Alex," was her reply, shaking his hand.

"From the sounds of it, I would say the whole group of you work somewhere and just finished a bad day?"

"You could say that. We took a final exam at Quantico that was a bitch. This instructor was a boring, pretentious asshole."

"Ugh, I hear you on that. Took more than my fair share of exams at Duke."

"You're from North Carolina, then?"

"Originally from Boston, but our family moved to Raleigh when I was fourteen. I got in on a scholarship."

"I see. So do you guys still whine about the fact the Red Sox haven't won a championship since 1918?"

John laughed. "Well, not personally. Besides, my roommate junior year was the biggest Cubs fan you ever saw, so obviously I haven't suffered as long."

"Yeah, those Cub fans are so annoying sometimes."

"Where did you grow up?"

"Philly."

"True. Philadelphia fans aren't annoying. They just throw snowballs at Santa."

"Oh, that story is SO overblown," Alex bellowed out tiredly until she saw the smile on John's face. She was quickly forgiving the blonde hair and the Boston background. Those were such pretty eyes, too.

"Do you work for the FBI?" Alex asked.

"I work for the Defense Department, but I had to visit someone at Quantico today. That's actually why I sent you the shots. I had a talk with that instructor you mentioned earlier today, and well, it wasn't what I would call a productive meeting."

"Oh, so YOU'RE to blame for that bitch of a test," Alex said with a sneer that was betrayed by a twinkle in her eyes.

"Yes, guilty as charged. Sorry about that."

"Then I think you owe us a few more shots for doing that to us."

"Fair enough." John motioned the bartender to buy Alex and her cohorts another round.

_**Times Square, New York City  
December 31, 2000  
11:50 PM**_

Alex had made a mental note long ago: Tamara and her husband, Lee, would get anniversary gifts from her every single year. Alex was the beneficiary of Tamara being married and not interested in John O'Shea.

The last year and change was nothing short of wonderful. John O'Shea was the classic combination of northeast ambition and southern charm. Alex spent all of her off-time away from Quantico in D.C. so she could be with him. Her training was grueling, since she decided to go into more involved training with fingerprinting, analysis, computing, and advanced theory. The FBI was more than happy to train her, as they were trying to get a few more female "superagents" into the fold to reduce the male/female ratio down from its current 12:1. Alex was proving herself more than capable of keeping up with the boys, often surpassing them. But the stress of the last year was taking a bit of a toll. Thankfully, John was a great comfort and was a great counter to her all-out, type-A personality. They clicked everywhere: on the town, sitting quietly at home, and especially in the bedroom. She found him to be the intimidating one in there. Not that she was complaining or anything. He made certain she never had any complaints when they were intimate.

She was nervous meeting his parents last July, but he kept reassuring her they would love her. He knew his parents well, as they welcomed her with open arms. Their house in Raleigh, more than three times the size of the house in which she was raised in Philadelphia, was beautiful, and they made her feel right at home. Normally she wasn't nervous in front of anybody's parents, but this time she was. She was starting to wonder if the reason why was because John could be the one. It was a thought that scared her to no end, but she could see it happening. It was an exciting prospect.

Right now, it was tough to think about anybody's parents as she got jostled around in the huge crowd waiting for the ball to drop and 2001 to start.

John was right next to her as they braved the crowds. This was his idea. She wasn't personally impressed with New York, since she had been there a few times. However, John had never visited New York and wanted to go for broke. It was hard to say no when he was able to secure a hotel room at the Pierre, and they had a big brunch to attend the next day. They already ice skated in Central Park, and they made out on the observation deck of the Empire State Building. It was touristy and old-fashioned, but she was having too much fun to worry about that.

"You OK, Alexandra?" Not long after visiting his parents, she started asking him to call her that. Her family always called her Alex, or Al in her brother's case, which usually led to a session of sibling violence that their parents had to break up with rather loud, angry voices.

"I'm wonderful, John." She grabbed him and gave him a kiss, not even caring how close it was to midnight. The screaming crowd would let her know when that was.

"Oops, I dropped something." John got down on the ground to pick something up and Alex took a quick look around to make sure nobody jostled him. She felt him take her hand, and she turned around.

He was on one knee with a small box in his hand.

"Alexandra, I tried to come up with some really wonderful thing to say right now, but there really aren't any words that can tell you just how much I love you and that I would give anything to be with you forever. I'm just going to skip to the important part."

Her eyes widened in complete shock as he opened the box and revealed the beautiful diamond ring inside.

"Alexandra Forrest, will you marry me?"

The crowd went into a frenzied state around her as New York City was in the final minute of the year 2000. She could not hear any of it as a floodgate of tears was breaking through.

"Yes! Yes!"

She quickly removed her glove, and John slid the ring onto her finger. She pulled him up and jumped into his arms as the countdown went on around them. They kissed with a fervor that warmed up the cold night.

"10! 9! 8! 7! 6! 5! 4! 3! 2! 1! HAPPY NEW YEAR!"

Alex and John ushered in 2001 by holding each other tightly and threatening to break each other's ribs as they kissed and kissed until the crowds started leaving the area. They didn't know how long they stood there kissing, and neither of them cared.

_**Quantico, Virginia  
September 11, 2001  
9:15 AM**_

Alex and Tamara were walking back from their morning run after physical training. They would change clothes before heading to Hogan's Alley for the advanced simulation courses. Both of them were competing for the women's record on the course. Tamara had hit the books a lot more as of late and seemed to find her niche. She was training to be a "superagent" like Alex, but cyber crime was still a young field in the FBI and she wanted to get ahead of the game. Best of all, it would mean she would be assigned to Atlanta, which meant she could keep her house with Lee. Alex was looking forward to her assignment in Washington D.C. John and she had already made a few plans. An apartment in Virginia, down payments on new cars, the works. Her parents, who reacted to John the same way his parents reacted to her, insisted on giving them the down payments for the cars as a wedding gift, but John insisted that their blessing to marry Alex was enough of a gift. She was a tiny bit annoyed: you have to hit up the parents for as much as they're willing to give. Tamara had given her a few ideas for the wedding, and even more ideas for what to wear the night of the honeymoon. Her dad would have a heart attack if he ever saw the credit card receipt from Victoria's Secret.

"Jake, what's going on?" Tamara noticed Jake Morris, another of the "superagents" in training. He was yet another reminder to Alex that she should have gone with the lineman at the prom. Jake looked like that 350 pound lineman, minus about 150 pounds.

"I don't know," Jake replied with a mixture of confusion and worry. "Everybody in the main office is going bat-shit. Something about a plane crashing in New York?"

"What?"

"Supposedly, it crashed into the World Trade Center. They think it might have been deliberate."

Alex and Tamara exchanged confused looks. "What is going on?" The two of them went to the recreation area in the basement of their dorms. Several people were already gathered around a TV tuned to CNN. A video image then popped up on the screen to show one of the towers of the World Trade Center with a gaping hole in it. Alex read the graphic at the bottom of the screen. It said both towers had been hit by separate planes

"Holy shit," Alex replied. What the hell is going on?"

"I don't know," Tamara replied.

One of the instructors, Deputy Director Lana Shaw, entered.

"Agent Rice, Agent Forrest, with me, please."

The two women went with Director Shaw. "The FBI is starting to gather data regarding what happened in New York. We have few details at this point, but no doubt the information will start pouring in quickly. We need the two of you to assist in indexing and cataloguing the information as it arrives."

"Yes, ma'am," was the crisp reply from the two candidates.

_**Quantico, Virginia  
September 11, 2001  
11:30 AM**_

Alex was quickly working to make sense of the information that was starting to pour in. She tried to remain as professional as she could. But the back of her mind already started the panic.

Like the rest of the country, she now knew there were four planes involved. A third plane crashed in Pennsylvania, and the rumors were flying as to where that plane was headed. However, it was the fourth plane, the one that crashed into the Pentagon, which had her worried. Contacting anybody was impossible right now, but that only made matters worse. She tried John's cell phone a few times, but she kept getting signals that the network was unavailable.

"Tamara, have you seen a list of people from the Pentagon yet?"

"Sorry no," she replied. "Most of the information I'm getting right now is from Flight 93. I'm sure John wasn't in that part of the Pentagon when the plane hit. That's a big building. He could be anyplace."

"I know. It's just…I don't know. I can't shake the thought."

"Alex," Tamara evoked as much confidence as she could in her voice while gripping her friend's shoulder. "He's fine. He'll call you the second it's possible."

Alex turned back to her desk, trying to will herself into believing Tamara's words.

_**Quantico, Virginia  
September 11, 2001  
8:30 PM**_

Alex walked back to her room. The two of them were relieved as other veteran agents took over the indexing of data, but they would work again in 8 hours doing the same thing. Tamara stopped by the cafeteria to see if there was any food left, but Alex couldn't eat. She still hadn't heard from John, and she was starting to panic.

She reached the fourth floor of the dorms. Her cell phone rang after so many hours. She quickly flipped it open.

"John?"

The voice on the other end was not John. The voice on the other end was crying. Alex recognized the voice immediately. It was Katherine "Katie" O'Shea, John's mother.

"Alexandra, the…the Raleigh Police came by. They said the Pentagon sent them. John…was…was…oh, sweetheart. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, honey."

Alex never heard anything else as she dropped the phone and slumped to the floor in the hallway. A wave of cold numbness overtook her whole body. Her mind tried to shut out Katie's words and keep them from her. But it was no use.

"NO!!!!!!!!!!!! NO!!!!!!!!!!!!" Her cries could be heard down the empty corridor. Her arms curled around her body, and she fell to her side as her tears emptied out of her onto the cold, hard tile of the dormitory. Her entire body shook as she cried in horror.

"No, John!!!!!!" Alex would be there on the floor for 30 minutes altogether, but it might as well have been 30 years for all the hurt and pain she was feeling. Her entire life had been cruelly snatched from her in a single moment. Everything she wanted in life was suddenly gone and for no good reason.

After crying for the longest time of her life, her screams subsided. Something in her mind suddenly clicked. She stood up and walked to her room in what could only be considered a trance.

Jake Morris ran around the grounds frantically, looking for Alex. He ran into Tamara instead.

"Tammy, have you seen Alex?"

Tamara was never happy about people calling her Tammy, but Jake's sweet nature made her forgive him for it. "She should be up in her room."

"I just came back from the office. One of the people sorting data got the list of the people who died at the Pentagon. John's on the list. Alex's fiancée was killed over there today."

Tamara staggered back. "Oh, my God. Poor Alex. She's going to…" She suddenly stopped in a horrifying mid-thought.

"What? You think she doesn't know?"

Tamara turned to Jake with a wide-eyed look of panic. "No, I'm scared that she might! Come on!" Tamara sprinted for the dorm with Jake in hot pursuit.

Tears streamed down Alex's face as she opened her locker. She pulled a box from the top shelf. She opened the box to reveal her FBI-issue sidearm. Her hands were shaking as she took a magazine from the box and inserted it into the gun. She gently put the box by the side of her bed and sat down. She turned the safety off and cocked it. One last wave of screaming and crying overtook her as thoughts of John flashed through her mind, his burned, lifeless body lying in a makeshift morgue somewhere near the crash site. She put the gun underneath her chin.

Tamara flew down the hall, and Jake tried to keep up as best as he could. She turned into the open door of their room.

"ALEX! NO!!"

Tamara dove at Alex, her hand grabbing Alex's wrist as she pulled the trigger. The shot whizzed by Alex's ear and embedded itself into the ceiling. Tamara struggled to knock the gun out of her hand as Alex suddenly went after her in an insane rage.

"No, Alex!" Tamara used her other hand to block Alex as she slammed Alex's arm against the bed railing, attempting to force her to drop the gun. The gun fell on the floor between the bed and the desk. Alex screamed and threw Tamara out of the way. She tried for the gun, but Jake arrived and tackled her on the bed. Alex stood no chance fighting against someone twice her size and found herself in a full-nelson as Jake tried to restrain her. She fought against him, screaming and crying the entire time.

"Alex, listen to me!" Tamara screamed as she tried to get Alex's attention. Alex was too far gone to listen to any rational thought. Tamara quickly went to her locker and searched for something. Jake dragged her into the hallway to pull her further away from the gun.

"Somebody help!" Jake screamed throughout the hall over Alex's cries. "We need a doctor up here! Somebody!"

Tamara emerged at the entrance of their room with her Taser gun. "Release her!" Jake let her go and backed away. Tamara immediately tasered Alex and held on until Alex slumped to the ground. She was unconscious. Tamara went immediately to the emergency telephone at the end of the hall while Jake kept watch on Alex.

_**Quantico, Virginia  
September 12, 2001  
4:30 AM**_

Alex slowly stirred in her bed in the medical center. Suddenly she bolted up and started screaming. This time, however, she would not move an inch. The on-duty doctor had given her a tranquilizer to make her sleep the prior night and ordered her hands and legs tied so she would injure herself. He ran over quickly to administer another tranquilizer. Alex's screams subsided and she went back to sleep. It was disturbing for him to watch, as he knew Alex as someone whom everybody liked. She was brash and borderline arrogant, but she was also very smart and was the sort of woman anybody could be friends with outside of those who suffer from a terminal case of petty jealousy. He knew this was a possibility since the reports started coming in yesterday that someone here in Quantico would be affected by yesterday's attacks. But Alex was the last person he wanted to see suffer as a result of this. She was a character and a really good person. She didn't deserve to lose her fiancée to the bastards that did this.

_**Quantico, Virginia  
October 18, 2001  
2:30 PM**_

Alex stood impassively in the Director's office while he went over her request. The FBI's medical and psychological teams did whatever it took to get Alex back. She remained sedated for several days until she could be trusted to remain awake without screaming in horror at what happened to her. It would be several days after that before she would even talk to anybody. Anybody who tried to even say Hi to her was rebuked with crying. After almost three weeks, they tried to let her sleep without the restraints, although they monitored her 24 hours a day. She made no further attempt to commit suicide. She was finally able to talk to a doctor about what happened. However, something in her changed. The Philly Prowler, as some people nicknamed her, was no longer the brash, funny, piss-and-vinegar blonde who would beat the crap out of you in the afternoon and wanted to take you to bed that night. She was much quieter and reserved now. The fun-loving, devil-may-care Alex Forrest was gone.

The Director of the FBI had the same thoughts. He doubted she would be a good FBI agent now. There was something in her that screamed "revenge," something that all the psychological assessments and medications in the world would never fix. She would be ill-equipped to work for an agency bound by so many rules. And he also knew that letting her go would be a waste of talent and potentially a danger to anybody who met her. Somehow, he had the feeling she knew this as well. That would certainly explain the request for a transfer to the CIA sitting before him. With all of the training to be a "superagent" she endured with the FBI, it would be a few months at the most for her to be made into a field agent for the CIA. He wasn't sure if he was doing the right thing. However, for someone with her talents who lost everything 5 weeks ago, this was the least of all evils.

"Alex, I am approving your request. You'll report to Langley for training on Monday. Good luck to you, and again I am so sorry for what happened. It is something everybody will have to figure out as time goes on. I hope you're able to do that as well."

"Thank you, sir," was her reply, although a robot could have said it for all of the emotion she put into it. She walked out of the director's office.


	36. Chuck vs the Dream Job

_Hello. I've got the ideas all set for the remaining chapters in the ChuckMeMondays Challenge, and I hope to have everything done in time for the Season 3 premiere. I'm also working on a New Year's story and prepping a new Forrest & Slade installment, given the good feedback I got on the first one. In the meantime, enjoy this little memo from the offices of Roark Instruments about their new RIOS Operating System._

**

* * *

**

**CHUCK VS. THE DREAM JOB - I AM A RIOS COMPUTER**

**ROARK INSTRUMENTS, INC.**  
_Be the Computer_

**_INTERNAL MEMO_**

**_TO_**: All Departments  
**_FROM_**: Ted Roark, CEO  
**_RE_**: Features of the new RIOS Operating System Release 1.0

The following is a list of some of the new features of the RIOS Operating System. These enhancements are designed to make you trip over yourself with excitement. We guarantee you'll feel like a hundred dollars when you try it out.

**_GOLDEN GREEN GOLF GAME  
_**A revolutionary homage to the popular tavern game, Golden Green takes out the long drives and impossible bunker shots and leaves you with the green itself. Your mission: get as many balls into the hole in the shortest time using any methods you wish. Style points are awarded by the computer for creativity. Disbelieving caddy available with upgrade version.

**_VOICE ENHANCER  
_**Allows commands to be verbally given and received. This enhancement is handy for those users who are hard of hearing. Voice interface provided by the Headmaster for the New York School for the Hard of Hearing, Garrett Morris.

**_DIGITAL AUDIO MATRIX  
_**The Digital Audio Matrix (DAM) is an all-in-one media producer and player, capable of creating audio and video files in all standard available formats. It can capture images and convert them into movie files. It can also be used as an MP3 player that will also read iTunes-formatted songs.

**_NOTE:_** The DAM is rumored to have a few bugs in it. As a result of all the DAM questions we are expecting, we are setting up a DAM help line and a DAM chat room for all of our DAM clients. Please show some DAM patience and give these people as many DAM answers as you can.

**_PROFILE SCRAMBLER  
_**The Profile Scrambler allows you to transmit profile information over the Internet that is not yours so hackers cannot trace it back to your IP address. Profiles include Igor Stravinsky, Peter Lemonjello, Elmer Fudd Gantry, Fred Dorfman, Ted Nugent, John Cocktoasten, and Dr. Rosenrosen.

**_THE SIMS: WALLYWORLD  
_**In conjunction with EA Software, we are releasing a Sims traveling game where you try to get your family across the country to an amusement park in California. Try to keep your tires, avoid your cousins, transport a dead grandmother, spend more than 20 seconds at the Grand Canyon, and arrive at your destination!


	37. Chuck vs the First Kill

_Hello again. We're down to one week until the Season 3 premiere! Admit it, you're excited. We all are. It's awesome. (Yeah, I used that word. That's how we roll in the Chuckverse!) It looks like I'll make it through all 35 episodes before then, and I'm as shocked as anybody else. Some of my ideas were pretty good, and more than a few sucked big time. But if you can keep coming back for more, that has to be something, right?_

_Anyway, if you look at the Fulcrum test below, the first 7 questions were actual questions in the episode that we saw on Chuck's testing screen. I decided to add a few. Hope you like it, and please leave reviews._

**_

* * *

_**

**_CHUCK VS. THE FIRST KILL – NONE OF US IS AS SMART AS ALL OF US_**

**_PART I – Choose YES or NO for each statement._**

1. YES NO You tend to sympathize with other people.

2. YES NO You value justice higher than mercy.

3. YES NO The more people with whom you speak, the better you feel.

4. YES NO You easily empathize with the concerns of other people.

5. YES NO You enjoy being at the center of events in which other people are directly involved.

6. YES NO You avoid being bound by obligations.

7. YES NO You are strongly touched by the stories about people's troubles.

8. YES NO You would choose to do the right thing over protecting a friend.

9. YES NO If you needed to plant a listening device on someone's person, you would be willing to break vows of fidelity to accomplish it.

10. YES NO You've suspected for a long time that your mother has been trying to undermine our government.

11. YES NO You've given more than a moment's thought as to why there are 7 red stripes and 6 white stripes on the American flag and not the other way around.

12. YES NO You feel Charlton Heston's greatest role was spokesman for the NRA.

13. YES NO You found the character of Colonel Flagg on M*A*S*H to be a true patriot.

14. YES NO You found the ending to Stripes to be most troubling.

15. YES NO You thought Archie Bunker should have run for New York City Council.

16. YES NO Your favorite professional sport is football, since all of its teams are located in the United States.

17. YES NO You thought they should have let Agent Kujan figure out that Verbal Kint was Keyser Söze in The Usual Suspects.

18. YES NO You think the Austin Powers' movies are documentaries.

19. YES NO You're convinced the government puts something in the water to insure that reality television is cost-effective enough to continue.

20. YES NO You have evidence to prove that the moon landings were staged as a reaction to the cancellation of Star Trek on NBC in 1969,

**_PART II – Choose the best answer to each scenario_**

21. You are walking on a college campus, and you encounter a peaceful protest against the raising of tuition and fees. How should you react?

A. Ignore the protest, since you feel college tuition is exorbitant as well.  
B. Sign the petition they have in support but do nothing else.  
C. Shout over the din that they should consider themselves lucky they can get a quality education.  
D. Take pictures of everybody involved in the protest and have them put on a terrorist watch list.

22. You overhear two people talking in a restaurant in a foreign language you don't recognize. What should you do?

A. Nothing: it's none of your business.  
B. Try to ascertain what language it is just out of curiosity.  
C. Take out your special electronic universal translator.  
D. Scream at them to speak English, those Commie bastards.

23. At TGI Friday's, your server asks if you want to be a part of their "Give Me More Stripes" program. What do you do?

A. Graciously accept, since you get free items with it.  
B. Politely decline, since you don't frequent the restaurant enough for the effort.  
C. Decry that it's another attempt to invade your privacy by the government.  
D. Protest their considerable use of the color red as a plot to bring a Soviet-style government to the United States.

24. A stranger in the bar wants to know your opinion of the BCS, the college bowl system that sets up a national championship game. What do you say?

A. Give your opinion and explain why.  
B. Ignore the person.  
C. Break a beer bottle over his head for asking such a dumb question.  
D. Have him dragged to a facility and drug him with truth serum to find out where he faked his college education from.

25. Your wife suggests medication to solve your sexual dysfunction. What should you do?

A. Take her advice to keep the marriage strong.  
B. Deny you have a problem.  
C. Pretend to take the pill but send it to a lab to see if it is a attempt by radical feminist groups to control the male population.  
D. Have your wife arrested for making anti-American statements. "What? It's un-American not to get laid!"


	38. Chuck vs the Colonel

First of all, I'd like to congratulate TwotoTenth on completing the ChuckMeMondays challenge first. Obviously, we've known this was coming for a while, but that is still quite an accomplishment, especially given that NBC moved the premiere up 7 weeks.

I've got two chapters to go myself, and this episode was chock-full of things to talk about. Of course, everybody wanted to kill Morgan from preventing Chuck and Sarah from finally getting together in the bedroom. No cameras, no microphones, and no Casey. (at that point, anyway) Well, when you prevent someone from having sex, that's called c***blocking someone. (and if you don't know what the bleeped word is, you really shouldn't be reading this in the first place) Of course, there have been many worthy candidates for this bestowment over the years. Since there's a lot of Hall of Fame talk in baseball (congrats to Andre Dawson, by the way, one of my favorite Cubs) and football, I thought I would add a Hall of Fame of my own.

Enjoy, and please leave reviews.

* * *

_**CHUCK VS. THE COLONEL – THE 2010 C***BLOCK HALL OF FAME INDUCTION CLASS**_

_**CANDIDATE:**_ RICK BLAINE, _CASABLANCA_  
_**VICTIM(S):**_ HIMSELF, ILSA LUND  
_**SCENARIO:**_ INSISTING HIS LOVER LEAVE WITH VICTOR LASZLO INSTEAD OF STAYING WITH HIM

In the pantheon of bad decisions, this had to rate at the top of the list. Rick is the only one who thinks letting Ilsa get on the plane and not be with him was her best shot at happiness. Even Sally Albright changed her mind in _When Harry Met Sally_ about sending Ilsa off with Victor Laszlo at the end of the movie. Seriously, does Rick think he'll have better sex with someone else? No way in hell! And Victor will be too busy with the revolution to take care of Ilsa. Way to screw it up for both of you!

_**CANDIDATE:**_ BILL BUCKNER, 1ST BASEMAN, BOSTON RED SOX  
_**VICTIM(S):**_ SPOUSES/GIRLFRIENDS OF RED SOX NATION  
_**SCENARIO:**_ ALLOWING GROUND BALL TO GO THROUGH LEGS TO PERMIT WINNING RUN IN GAME 6 OF 1986 WORLD SERIES

OK, we know there was another game. Just like Don Denkinger's call against the Royals wasn't the ultimate decider of the '85 series or Steve Bartman didn't prevent the Cubs from reaching the World Series in 2003. However, certain towns, especially Boston and Chicago, live and die by their sports teams. Ironically, it was something between someone's legs that led to a lot of sleepless, restless nights without getting any for anybody who dated a fan of the Red Sox.

_**CANDIDATE:**_ BOB SAGET  
_**VICTIM(S):**_ JOHHNY CHASE (Kevin Dillon), _ENTOURAGE_  
_**SCENARIO:**_ DRAMA'S GIRL FALLS FOR SAGET'S COURVOISIER AND CIGARS

In the episode "Neighbors," Vince, Drama, and Turtle visit their sexy new neighbor and all of her friends. Drama is making good time with a woman who even remembered he was in an episode of "Full House" 10 years earlier. Naturally, Bob Saget can't handle that and takes her for himself. Granted, all of the women were call girls, but it still led to my favorite line ever in that show, when Turtle asks Drama, "Did you just get c***blocked by Bob Saget?" Let's face it; you don't recover from that right away.

_**CANDIDATE:**_ ANGELINA JOLIE  
_**VICTIM(S):**_ JENNIFER ANISTON  
_**SCENARIO:**_ JOLIE TAKES BRAD PITT AWAY FROM ANISTON ON THE SET OF _MR. & MRS. SMITH_

I don't know if this actually qualifies for the CB HOF, but has there ever been a situation in Hollywood when someone gets their boyfriend stolen from them and THEY look like the bad person? It's not likely we'll ever get to know the full details of what happened, despite the tabloids making up a litany of stories about it. But it would seem that Angelina would stop at nothing when she found out "that's all John, sweetheart."

_**CANDIDATE:**_ KANYE WEST  
_**VICTIM(S):**_ HIMSELF  
_**SCENARIO:**_ INTERRUPTING TAYLOR SWIFT'S WIN AT THE 2009 MTV MUSIC AWARDS

A little hint here, Kanye. When the person you're trying to defend decides to give her acceptance speech time to the person you railed, you really haven't made too many friends. I don't think there's a single person on this planet who would ever accuse Beyonce of being too waifish, so I'm thinking she can take care of herself. I'm starting to think of the questions they asked on the SNL skit "The Referee Pittman Show." Such as: "Do you enjoy your head up your butt? Is it for the warmth?" "Do you drink alcohol on a regular basis?" "I just want to invite you to go have sex with yourself."

_**CANDIDATE:**_ RICHARD NIXON  
_**VICTIM(S):**_ ENTIRE COUNTRY  
_**SCENARIO:**_ SIX YEARS OF PRESIDENCY ENDING IN RESIGNATION AND DISILLUSIONMENT OF GOVERNMENT

Am I wrong in thinking he was the last ugly-looking president we've had? Everybody since then…Ford, Carter, Reagan, both Bushes, Clinton, and Obama…are/were very good looking men, at least when they started. Let's face it; it's bad for the country if the President isn't getting any. And Nixon really didn't help his own cause by being alienated from Pat like he was. As a result, so many things…oil embargo, Kent State, the dollar coming off the gold standard, most of our involvement in Vietnam…happened on his watch. The early 1970's were so bad, we actually had to invent a ridiculously crappy form of music to make us forget how bad things were. (Disco Duck? Seriously?)

_**CANDIDATE:**_ YOKO ONO  
_**VICTIM(S):**_ JOHN LENNON, THE BEATLES, ROCK N' ROLL AS A WHOLE  
_**SCENARIO:**_ REALLY, DO YOU NOT KNOW?

Many still blame her for the breakup of The Beatles, even though it was likely that they would have broken up on their own anyway. However, if you're going to ditch one of the greatest musical groups of all time, could you at least do it for someone who is good-looking and a lot less flaky? You're memorialized better if drugs are the cause than bad decisions. At least JFK could have said he wrecked his marriage for Marilyn Monroe if he had lived long enough. Yoko Ono?

_**CANDIDATE:**_ MORGAN GRIMES  
_**VICTIM(S):**_ CHUCK BARTOWSKI AND SARAH WALKER…AND THE FANS  
_**SCENARIO:**_ TOOK CHUCK'S LAST CONDOM, PREVENTING CHUCK & SARAH FROM FINALLY HAVING THEIR MOMENT

Granted, Casey might have bludgeoned the two of them ten minutes later, anyway. But really, it would have still been a happy way to go out. This was what the fans had wanted since Day 1: for Chuck & Sarah to be together. 1,500+ FanFiction stories can't be wrong. Hell, you're reading the proof right now. I had crappy scores on the SAT and ACT tests in writing and grammar. (and it really shows, doesn't it?) Yet somehow I felt compelled to write down stories about this show. I sure as hell didn't expect my first story to near the 100,000 word mark. (That would be a 400-page novel) Crazy, isn't it?


	39. Chuck vs the Ring

_And here it is: my final entry into the ChuckMeMondays challenge. I have to admit being a bit surprised that I got all the way through it. Truthfully, I didn't think 8 months ago I'd be doing all of this writing. I don't consider myself a very good writer (and I'm sure it's obvious with more than a few of these chapters). But I think everybody needs to find that outlet, that one thing they can say they made. No matter how miniscule it might be in the grand scheme of things, it's just something you have to do for you._

_Thanks to everybody who reviewed the chapters, because those were the things that kept me going. The number of people who have read my stories has slowly grown over these 8 months, and it's very gratifying to see._

_I still have a few stories left up in that large pile of rocks cleverly disguised as my brain. The next one will be the second "Forrest & Slade" entry, which a lot of people seemed to like, given that they feature an original character and a character from a single episode. That will transition into my "series finale" story; although obviously I hope our favorite nerd gets a fourth season of shows._

_Enjoy this final entry, which goes through what all of us wish would have happened on April 27th__, 2009.

* * *

_

_**CHUCK VS. THE RING – IF ONLY…**_

"_Guys, I know Kung-Fu."_

Sarah and Casey just stared in utter shock at that understatement. The mere fact that Chuck had once again shown how brave he was, if a little crazy and stupid, by insisting on joining them in attempting to rescue Bryce. On that count, sadly, they failed. Bryce had been pulled out of the Intersect room moments before, dead of multiple gunshot wounds. They knew Chuck would do the right thing and destroy the Intersect to prevent it from falling into the hands of The Ring. However, what they just witnessed was beyond comprehension.

Chuck, the man who accepted the fate that was placed in his hands and served his country by saving countless lives while risking his own, chose not to walk away. No person in the entire government deserved to have this curse be lifted more than him. But he decided he was a hero. He uploaded the new Intersect. An Intersect that gave him even more amazing abilities than he had before.

Casey could only stare. _What_ _the hell was in that thing?_ He couldn't believe what he just saw. It took him almost 2 years to not want to strangle Bartowksi and suddenly he could do things he never saw any Special Forces man do. The bodies of a half-dozen enemies of the state lay around him. Chuck took them out single-handedly. He turned their almost-certain capture…or death…into their first victory against this organization which apparently is a greater threat than Fulcrum.

They are interrupted by an explosion and the door to the Intersect room collapsing inward. The room becomes filled with federal agents, who surround them with their guns drawn. Sarah and Casey hold up their ID's. The agents begin to move the unconscious Ring agents out of the room.

* * *

"Did I hear you right, Colonel?"

Casey relayed the information to General Beckman. Ordinarily he would wait until morning rather than wake Beckman up in the middle of the night. However, this particular situation unquestionably deemed an immediate report, sleep be damned.

"Yes, ma'am. Before destroying the Intersect, Chuck uploaded it into his brain. What happened next…" Casey couldn't continue the sentence, since he still couldn't believe it.

"What happened, Colonel?" Beckman prodded with insistence and growing impatience.

"He took out every single Ring agent in there. By himself. He saved our lives and prevented the Intersect from falling into The Ring's hands."

For the first time, Casey actually saw Beckman speechless. He could imagine how she would have reacted if she saw it firsthand.

Beckman gathered herself. "Colonel, do we know anything about this new threat?"

Casey was partly relieved to deliver the part of the report he did know. "This new group was apparently the control for Fulcrum. According to what Larkin told Chuck, it is a group of spies who call themselves The Ring. One of its members was in my Special Forces group. He killed Roark and the rest of my team. General, we have to assume this new group is as well-entrenched in the government as Fulcrum."

He paused for a moment, the gravity of his next statement hung in the air. "If not more."

"Colonel Casey, I will meet with the President and the Joint Chiefs first thing in the morning to discuss this new threat and Mr. Bartowksi's…changes. For now, I want you to stay in Burbank until we have a consensus on what will be done."

She paused for a moment. Her voice softened. "I am very sorry for the loss of your men, Colonel. They served this country with honor and within the best traditions of our military. And they will be remembered that way as well."

Casey looked down at the ground. It was the first chance he had to think about the fact so many of his buddies had died earlier today at the hands of a traitor. His head slowly rose to again look at Beckman. "Thank you, General."

"Colonel, where is Chuck right now?"

"He was a bit shaken up by the whole incident. Obviously he is as shocked about what happened as we are. He is back in his apartment. Agent Walker went to check on him."

"Very well, Colonel. We will talk again in the morning."

The screen went blank. Casey slowly looked around Castle. He only expected to see this place once more: to gather his things and go on to his next assignment. However, his current assignment did not appear to be done. As much of a pain in the ass as Bartowski was, he always respected the fact that he did everything that he did for the last two years. He underestimated the nerd on too many occasions to realize now that Chuck was, indeed, a man of character and integrity. He didn't always do the right thing, and Casey would be a millionaire if he had a dollar for every time Chuck didn't stay in the car as ordered. But to do what he did tonight, there was only one word to describe it.

Heroic.

* * *

Chuck sat on the edge of his bed, in the same spot he had for the past hour. The apartment was quiet. Ellie and Devon were having their honeymoon night at the Four Seasons. The Very Awesomes would drive them to LAX tomorrow for their honeymoon trip to Paris and would be leaving themselves. He had planned to stop by Morgan and Anna tomorrow to help them get ready for their trip to Hawaii. Fortunately, someone had already cleaned up the courtyard from the reception earlier tonight. For the next few days, he had nothing to do.

No, that wasn't right. The next few days were not about nothing. They were about everything. Everything changed tonight. He stared at his friend, his former nemesis. The person who started him on this path so many years ago on a campus 6 hours north of here. At the time, it didn't make sense. He planted that test in his room and got Jill to break up with him. Why would he ruin his life? The fact that he was trying to protect Chuck was the last thing Chuck would have ever contemplated as the reason. But now, he was dead. He was an agent for the CIA, who protected his country from its enemies. And he did it once more by helping prevent Fulcrum from killing his sister and everybody in that church.

The voices continued to echo in his mind…

"_You can do anything you want."  
"He is not ready for this!"  
"It is time you became a spy."  
"How many times do you have to be a hero before you realize you are that guy?"_

Those were the voices that went through his head as his eyes moved between the slot in the computer, where he would insert the device to destroy it, and the pad on the display, where he would place his hand and activate the new Intersect.

He made his decision.

It still didn't feel real to him. It felt like what he did to those Ring agents was still a figment of his imagination. But Sarah, Casey, and he were supposed to be dead right now, just like Bryce. The Ring got to Bryce. But Chuck wouldn't let them get to Sarah or Casey. He defeated them…by himself. He still wasn't sure how he did that. But the skills were clearly there in the new Intersect his father created. And he put them to use. He saved the day. This time, he didn't stumble backwards into it. He faced the danger head-on and defeated it.

But as he sat there, he heard one more voice. It was a voice he heard earlier tonight. But until now, it didn't echo in his head.

_"I don't want to save the world, Chuck. I just want…"_

Chuck never got to hear the end of what Sarah said; his father interrupted him and sent their night in a much different direction. But now all he could think of was what Sarah wanted. They held each other in the middle of the courtyard. They danced together, although Chuck wasn't certain the music was still playing in the background. He knew he was in love with her. There was no question about it. And he thought that perhaps she loved him, too. Everything that had happened in the past week…defying orders, the morning in the hotel in Barstow, their talk in the Castle holding room, and their dance tonight…seemed to point in that direction. Suddenly, Chuck was filled with regret and heartache. In doing what he thought everybody wanted, did he just betray the one person who wanted him? He thought Sarah would be going on to her next assignment, most likely with Bryce. And he would go back to being…just Chuck. But now what? He knew he couldn't live without her. But did she want him as well? If she did, then uploading the new Intersect was a horrible mistake. He just destroyed her only shot at walking away from all of this and having a life she wanted.

What the hell has he done?

A gentle knock on the Morgan Door interrupted him. Sarah stuck her head in to see Chuck sitting on his bed. She stepped inside and sat next to him.

"Chuck, are you OK?" She stared into his eyes with an intensity he barely registered. It didn't occur to him that she was worried. She had never seen this look in his eyes before, and she thought she had seen every emotion from Chuck…fear, mirth, anger, happiness, desperation, determination, hate, and love.

Chuck looked at her and was visibly shaking. "I'm sorry."

"You're sorry?" Her voice was soft and hesitant. It could have meant anything to him.

"I went in there tonight hoping that I could help. I stared at Bryce for so long, and everything that happened in the last two years went through my mind. I thought I needed to do this. I thought I had to be what everybody wanted me to be. I thought…I thought this was what I had to do to be somebody. To be somebody more than what I was."

He paused, and Sarah continued to look at him. Her sapphire eyes bore into his soul, and it took him a moment to collect himself and continue.

"But I didn't think about what that meant for the people I love, the people who cared about me. I…I…you didn't want this. You didn't want to have to spend the rest of your life having to babysit some delusional nerd who thought he could take on the world. You are such an incredible and beautiful person, and you deserved so much more, and I took that away. I didn't think about what you wanted and…"

Chuck never finished the sentence, as Sarah grabbed him and kissed him with a passion that coursed through every fiber of her being. She kissed him and held him tightly, never wanting to let him go. She wanted the rest of her life to be like this moment. The moment when she forgot about the world and infiltrating enemy organizations and torturing and killing and seducing. There was no Beckman, no Casey, no Castle, no Orange Orange. There was only…him. The man she could not live without. The man who broke down all of her shields and made her realize that she did deserve so much more in life than what she had been given up until now. She could not stop kissing him. She could not tear herself away from him now.

She stopped the kiss for a moment, and looked into those sweet, gentle brown eyes that always made her a little less callous, no matter what the situation was. She held his face gently in her hands.

"What I want Chuck. What I want is to be with you. And I tried to keep myself from wanting it because I was afraid. I was afraid of what might happen. I was afraid that I would give my heart to someone and have them turn on me like they have so many times in the past. I was afraid all of it would be taken away from me. But I can't do it anymore. I can't keep my distance. I love you. I've been in love with you for a long time, and I can't let you go, no matter what happens."

She gently ran her fingers through his hair as a few tears of joy welled in her eyes. "I love you, Chuck."

He paused for a moment, and that smile Chuck had that lit so many of her hopeless nights in the past appeared. His hands glided gently along her cheeks, and he tenderly wiped a few of the tears away from her face.

"I've always been in love with you, Sarah."

Their arms slid around each other as they kissed again. They kissed each other with a passion and a fire that neither of them had felt before. Not from Cole, not from Lou, not from Bryce, and not from Jill. It was a moment in their lives that could not be described in any other way by a moment of destiny. It was a moment that each of them deserved. It was a moment that would change their lives forever. Because in that moment, they knew that they belonged with each other. It was a love that so few could duplicate. Whatever came next did not matter. Their lives were now.


End file.
